


A SOUL FOR SALE OR RENT

by DeanandCas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, Homophobia, M/M, Slow Build, Supernatural AU - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-15 04:55:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 35,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13023663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanandCas/pseuds/DeanandCas
Summary: He closed his eyes, now damp, before shaking his head in disbelief.A tear escaped and he didn’t bother to dry it. The emotional impact was immense and the man could just sit there and feel crushed.He swallowed, feeling his throat close. His hand groped for his cell phone, his vision blurred by the emotions.Trembling, he was able to call the number who was the first in his list of contacts after some unsuccessful attempts."Sam ..." he said, between painful inspirations, still staring at the news on the computer screen."Dean? What happened? What's the problem?" The altered voice told him that something very serious had happened."He died." He said with a strangled voice. He repeated, as if to convince himself that it was true. "He died ... Accident ... Yesterday ...""Please, calm down, who, Dean, who died?""He ..." he replied hoarsely, avoiding saying the name, as if that might make it not true.





	1. The slate will soon be clean

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of ["A Soul for Sale or Rent"*](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5433023) by [DeanandCas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanandCas/pseuds/DeanandCas). 



> The title of the story and the chapters are verses from the song "[Save Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iw3izcZd9zU)", composed by Brian May and recorded by Queen (1980).

 

Dean’s fingers tapping on the table to the music pouring from the headphones suddenly stopped.

His face paled as his mouth opened in a silent gasp. For a moment he seemed to forget where he was, transported to another time.

He closed his eyes, now damp, before shaking his head in disbelief.

A tear escaped and he didn’t bother to dry it. The emotional impact was immense and the man could just sit there and feel crushed.

He swallowed, feeling his throat close. His hand groped for his cell phone, his vision blurred by the emotions.

Trembling, he was able to call the number who was the first in his list of contacts after some unsuccessful attempts.

"Sam ..." he said, between painful inspirations, still staring at the news on the computer screen.

"Dean? What happened? What's the problem?" The altered voice told him that something very serious had happened.

"He died." He said with a strangled voice. He repeated, as if to convince himself that it was true. "He died ... Accident ... Yesterday ..."

"Please, calm down, who, Dean, who died?"

" _He_ ..." he replied hoarsely, avoiding saying the name, as if that might make it not true.

The silence on the other side demonstrated that the interlocutor understood who _he_ was and how that fact affected his brother, himself also taken by the shock of unexpected news.

Getting up, Sam said, his voice in a tender, if imperative inflection.

"Stay there. I’m going to see you. Don't leave, do you hear me, Dean?"

The handsome man sitting at the table in the well-furnished office could only shake his head before realizing that Sam couldn’t see him. He mumbled their agreement, barely suppressing a sob.

Dean hung up and rested his face on his hands, allowing himself to finally cry.


	2. Was it all wasted... All that love?

Sam drove as fast as he could in the chaotic traffic of that hour in Los Angeles. He had to get to Dean's office as soon as possible. He feared that he... Sam wasn’t sure _what_ he feared, but he had felt that his brother was devastated by the news.

He remembered one night, a couple of years before, when, on his bachelor party, he had had to take a drunk Dean home at the end of the party. He himself was sober, not wanting to lose control in the night of drunkenness and debauchery his brother and his friends had organized.

Dean seemed to be enjoying the celebration to the fullest, until one of the boys came and told the groom that he was in the bathroom, locked in one of the stalls, refusing to open the door.

When Sam made Dean let him in, he came across as a surprising scene: he found his brother that was only moments before excited and playful, in a pitiful state. Sitting on the floor, having vomited, his face bore the visible marks of tears, his eyes red.

Dean was too numb to react and Sam had helped him get up, apologized to the other guests, and headed to the apartment he shared with the semi-conscious man leaning on his shoulder.

When Sam had been able to undress him and put Dean to bed, apparently unconscious, and was leaving, he heard a faint call.

He turned to find the man's bleak eyes shining in the faint light coming from the hallway, one of his hands rising in his direction.

Intrigued by the sight of his emotionally upset brother, when he was normally averse to any expression of a more sentimental nature, he returned to the side of the bed. Dean grabbed his hand and made him sit down.

"Sammy... don’t leave me alone..." he stammered, his speech slowed by the excess of alcohol consumed.

"What happened? Talk to me." He asked, even though he knew his brother could slip into unconsciousness at any moment.

 "I just wanted ..." he began, before taking a deep breath and leaning forward, feeling ill again.

 The tall, strong man, who was to be married in two days, helped him to his feet and led him quickly into the bathroom, where Dean puked again. The strain scratched his throat, his voice hoarse as he said,

"What I meant was ... I'm going to miss you, Sammy." Dean looked a little less dizzy, but not less emotional.

"I'll always be here for you, Dean. Nothing is going to change between us. "

"It's going to change, yes... You're going to have Madison ... to listen to your problems ... to take care of you..." That had been Dean's job for a long time. "She's too good for you, you know that?"

Sam smiled sadly at the statement. He knew the reason for this outburst. Dean was, despite all the bravado, a lonely person and he finally felt that he would be alone when his brother wouldn’t live with him anymore. He couldn’t admit, even to himself, how much he needed someone. He continued to lead a seemingly unconcerned life he'd taken up after he broke his engagement to Tessa, almost three years earlier. Sam knew how much it had cost Dean to make a commitment. And then, how hard he took it when she had abruptly broken up with him a few months before the ceremony.

Dean had said at the time that he felt free and that he should never have gotten engaged. He wasn’t marriage material and was going to enjoy life to the fullest from them on. As he did so, however, Sam realized that his brother was suffering from the emptiness he carried within.

"I know it's not a good time and you're going to tell me to shut my mouth, but ... don’t you think about… finding someone? I’m not talking marriage, so don’t look at me like that... Someone who understands how you are and who would be ... I don’t know ... a more permanent companion? " Sam asked, his voice low.

"Sam, I can’t ... I don’t even want to think about it ... My ... experiences have shown me that ..." he said, stopping suddenly, as if he had a vision. "Once I ... I thought it was possible... but it's over for me. It's over."

The taller man looked at the other, leaning against the sink, his face reflected in the mirror. It was as if he could see what had happened in his brother's mind as he said that.

"You... do you still think about him?" Sam asked cautiously.

Dean's eyes slowly turned toward him, but his face showed no emotion. He didn’t answer, but Sam knew.

 _Castiel_. The college friend Dean had fallen in love with, being the first man to attract him.

From that moment until now, Dean had openly assumed his bisexuality, but the other boy hadn’t  been able, at that time, to reciprocate the feelings his friend had  for him. From what Sam had known, he had rejected Dean's attention and that had left a deep mark. He had never been able to connect with someone like that again. Not even Tessa and this had been the cause of the breakup, Sam knew.

What could he say to that silent admission? Years had gone by, and all along Dean had been cherishing a hopeless feeling. Sam tried to imagine how that made him feel. He put his hand on Dean’s shoulder and pulled his brother to his chest. Dean let himself be hugged, defeated by the fatigue of being who he was, of trying to keep the mask intact.

Sam had, however, glimpsed in Dean something he had always suspected, but he had never been sure. His brother would never admit it in words, much less sober. Sam hugged Dean tightly, wishing he could comfort the other man, even if he knew he could do little more than hold him close to his chest and assure him he would never abandon him.

He had left Dean in a restless sleep, to find him back to normality on his wedding day. He never asked anything more about what had happened between Dean and Castiel, enough of what he had realized that night. The truncated mention of minutes before, on the phone, had been the only one since then.

He parked his car and hurried upstairs to the floor where his brother was. Opening his office door without knocking, he swept the room with his eyes for him , but Dean wasn’t there.

Sam ran his fingers through his hair, trying to breathe more slowly, not letting himself get anxious. He went back into the hall, only to see his brother coming out of the bathroom. He walked toward him, realizing that he had recovered enough to speak to him calmly.

They walked side by side back to the office, the little brother's hand on the older's shoulder, as if to protect him. He tried to imagine what it would be like to love Madison for so many years in silence, perhaps cultivating some futile hope, only to know that everything had finally ended because of an accident.

Dean sat up and didn’t look at Sam, joining his fingers over the table. He hesitated to speak, though he had made up his mind at the time when he had been alone in his despair.

"What are you going to do, Dean?" Sam asked, getting right to the point.

"I ... I need to go to the funeral," he said, his voice less sure than he wanted.

"I will go with you."

"It’s not necessary..."

"I remember him, Dean. He was your roommate, I knew him. And I won’t let you go alone ... not in these ... conditions. "

"What conditions would these be, Sammy? Do you think I'm going to lose control and do something stupid? "

"No. But I know I would need a friend's shoulder if I lost... someone important in my life... like Madison. "

Dean finally looked up to his brother.

"And who said he was so important? He... was my roommate, a... friend, after all... And it's hard to accept the death of such a young person, someone who shared a part of life with you... But it was nothing more than that . " He tried to undo the impression he had made on the phone, ashamed to admit of a sentimental involvement that he didn’t consider appropriate to his usual attitude.

"Dean ..." Sam started, but realized his brother had finished talking about that matter. The pain was there, under a cloak of denial, but Sam knew it. "As soon as you know the details, I'd like you to tell me. I intend to go to the funeral service. If you want my company, fine. If not, I'll go by myself. "

With another angry look, Dean shook his head. If Sam really wanted, he could join him.

For a few moments they sat there in silence until Dean, claiming a severe headache, stood up to leave. They left the building and went to their respective vehicles, words not needed.

Sam followed with worried eyes as the gleaming Impala 67 moved away. He wanted Dean to be happy - the brother who had been like a father and now needed someone to look after him.


	3. It Started Off so Well

Dean closed the door, dropped the keys on the coffee table, and headed for the kitchen. Filling a large glass he swallowed two aspirins.

Walking to his the bedroom, he kicked off his shoes and took off his jacket. It was the most he could do. He dropped onto the bed, exhausted, too shaken to sleep.

His mind was buzzing, and he made a point of revolving the accident news. The brief mention in the obituary said that the brothers Novak, Castiel and Balthazar had been involved in a traffic accident, in which the first had died due to serious injuries. Dean had already been informed, while waiting for Sam, of the funeral arrangements. He hadn’t told him anything yet because thinking of Castiel dead made him feel sick.

Each time he imagined the man in the car colliding with the back of a truck, he felt he could go crazy, so he forced himself, even though he knew it couldn’t be healthy, to remember Castiel as he had known him.

Images of the past, supplied by his troubled mind, spun under his closed eyelids.

Fragments of conversation and laughter, the rich, deep tone of the voice he had known, were present in the kaleidoscope within his own mind, bringing back bittersweet memories of thirteen years before.

As he fumbled for the key in his pocket, dropping some sheets of paper in the process, Dean cursed softly.

The hall of the dormitory was not very busy at that hour, being Saturday night. The young man who lived in that small room wanted to come in shortly, to drop the books he and Charlie had studied all afternoon and go out, looking for some fun in one of the bars near the campus.

Keeping the door open, he bent down to gather what he'd dropped, and his eyes were drawn to a stranger, a thin, dark-haired boy approaching the bulletin board on the hall.

There were always people looking for accommodation there, which was not easy to get. At the moment, in Dean’s entire block only two of the rooms had vacancies for someone who wanted to share the space, his being one of those in question.

He thought of saying something, assuming that was what the young man was looking for, but he had to be quick if he wanted to meet the girl he'd known the day before. She'd told him she was a waitress at one of the nearby diners and that she used to leave at eight on Saturdays. As the handsome smile had been accompanied by promising curves, Dean had agreed to meet her at the end of her shift for a drink elsewhere.

Throwing everything on his desk, Dean wondered if he had time to change. Just the shirt, he thought. He brushed his teeth, ran his fingers through his hair, and rehearsed one of his most seductive looks into the mirror. He was attractive and he knew it. From the age of sixteen he had been bewitching the girls with his handsome face and easy going nature. He was naturally gifted for conquest, and seldom did any woman pass unharmed when he chose to use his charm.

He grabbed the leather jacket that was hanging from a hook behind the door and walked quickly toward the exit.

The young mam, whom he had forgotten about, turned toward him and made to speak, but Dean only bowed his head and walked faster. Images of the voluptuous red-haired woman filled his imagination and he needed to be quick if he wanted to get there at the appointed time.

He left, leaving the other man alone in the dimly lit corridor.

When he returned the next morning, he was no longer there.

Three months later, as he arrived from his afternoon classes, he almost tripped over someone sitting on the floor by his door.

Dean lowered his eyes to find a vaguely familiar face.

"Do you live here?" Asked the young man standing up, Dean unable to determine why he was familiar.

"Yes, any problem?"

"I'm looking for a room to share and they told me that your room had a vacancy."

"Ah, yes ... Come in and we'll talk."

The room was small but immaculately organized. Next to the window an empty bed testified that no one had been sleeping there for some time.

Dean put the books on the desk and motioned for the other to sit down.

The man, who had eyes of an unusual blue, Dean realized now, chose the chair and settled in a rigid posture.

"So ... you need a roommate. I need to tell you that I haven’t had a partner here in a few months. I'm not what you’d call ... a person of easy coexistence. "

"Sorry, but what do you mean by that?"

"Well, I'm kind of ... complicated. As you can see, I like order and cleanliness. I can’t stand messy people. Then, although I like to have fun like any other in this university, when I'm studying I can’t have distractions. I've already been told I'm a maniac. Oh, and no women in the room. " As the young man in front of him stared at him, his head tilted slightly to one side, he hurried to complete. "No distractions. If you want to have sex, it's going to be somewhere else. "

The boy nodded silently, the terms not appearing so hard.

"I can live with that. I don’t go out much and I'm here to study. I'm not a messy person and I tend to be quite quiet. When can I move in? "

Dean had already had his share of people leaving quickly when presented with the rules and was surprised by the assertive response, although spoken in a soft voice in a deep tone.

"Where are you living right now?" He asked.

"Right here on the top floor. But I've had ... problems with my roommate. He's the type ... who wouldn’t fit here with you. Most days I'm out for hours because he brings his girlfriend and ... " He said, looking away. "Can I move immediately? I have a test tomorrow and I'm desperately in need of a place to study. "

Dean thought for a moment. The young man who looked at him anxiously was serious, his voice restrained. He was dressed in a white shirt, black trousers, and dark shoes. Maybe he was an intern at a nearby law firm. He had accepted without question the terms imposed. He, in fact, preferred to remain alone, but it would be good to split the expenses.

"If we're going to be roommates, at least I need to know your name."

Castiel Novak had settled into his bedroom, and in less than two hours his few belongings and many books were arranged in the drawers and shelves and he had focused on his studies.

Dean, flipping through his day notes, smiled to himself. Finally he found someone who seemed to fit his style of living.

He had his reasons. He had hesitated to leave the paternal home, not wanting to abandon his younger brother at the mercy of her father's whims. Unbalanced by alcoholism, many of his decisions about his children had been questionable. It was only when Bobby had solemnly pledged himself to look at the fifteen-year-old boy Dean had made up his mind. He wanted a degree in Mechanical Engineering, and from the very first day he had set foot on South Dakota State University he had devoted himself to his studies. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could return home and give his brother a more stable home.

Castiel, in turn, was studying Philosophy, and Dean had a hard time understanding the study of something he couldn’t get his hands on. His roommate had come from another state, coming from a religious family, in which the study was seen with grave seriousness. He intended to go home - also as soon as possible - to take up a position in the local community as a minister. He was quiet and reserved, as he had said the first day, and Dean had only learned of these details over several months of sharing a room.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw, as usual, his roommate leaning over his notes, surrounded by a huge stack of books. They hadn’t had any problems during all that time and that was a relief.

Tired and hungry, he thought of going out for a bite to eat and returning to finish his work. It had never before occurred to him to invite Castiel. But, he thought, the other also seemed to need a break in those days of final exams.

"Castiel?" He called softly, not wanting to startle the boy concentrating on what he was reading. As there was no immediate answer, he called again, a little louder: "Cas?"

The other one seemed to wake up in a trance and turned quickly, his eyes red and his hair disheveled, as if he was not sure Dean was addressing him.

"Yes ... Dean?"

"Uh ... I'm hungry. Want to go get something to eat? "

Looking a bit puzzled by the unprecedented invitation, he squinted for a moment before replying,

"I could eat something, I see. I was so focused that I didn't see the time pass. Where do you plan to go?"

"I thought of the cafe near the drugstore. They serve quite decent pies there. "

"Pie? It’s not very nutritious ... Do you think they would have soup? "

"I think so. Let's go then?"

They got up and as soon as they took their coats, they left. Between them, as they walked, there was a sense of strangeness, since it was the first time they went somewhere together, but soon the silence was broken by Dean, maintaining a basic and neutral conversation. They barely knew each other, after all.

They sat down at a corner table and while eating a simple meal, they shared some facts of their lives.

After comparing notes about their courses, talking about subjects and teachers, Dean gave a more personal touch to the conversation, talking about his brother and how much he missed him.

Castiel spoke little, as was his custom, but he was an attentive listener. Finally he realized that it was an opportunity to get to know each other better and told him a little about the large family he came from and how he felt lonely away from the brothers, since he wasn’t the most sociable person.

Anchored in this resemblance between the fraternal bonds they missed, the conversation began to flow more easily, each of them telling stories of their family.

While Dean was talking about the time he had put plastic wrap over the toilet before Sam used the bathroom, a small smile appeared on his serious face. A light shone in the young man’s eyes before him as he laughed at the conclusion of the story.

Dean felt suddenly good for making the other smile, as if this was a unique event in the history of mankind.

"It reminds me of my brother Gabriel .. He was, as a teenager, especially inclined to this kind of prank. He was a rascal! "

Dean laughed at the extremely correct speech and the term to describe his brother. Dean asked Cas to tell more about his brother’s pranks, and in a few minutes he was laughing.

"And what is the relationship between the two of you?" He asked. He soon realized that Castiel might take offense at his familiarity and apologized.

"There's no reason to apologize, Dean. Gabriel is a very different person from me. I know I'm very dull as well as the other members of our family. That's why he turned away from us all. "

Dean didn’t know what to do with this statement that obviously hurt his roommate, interpreting the sad look that the other addressed him. Uncomfortable, he apologized and, trying to escape the embarrassment, relied on his usual behavior, flirting with the waitress who had just brought them the bill.

Focusing on the cleaveage of the mature and attractive woman, he didn’t not immediately notice Castiel's reaction. It was only when the waitress turned and said something provocative to the dark-haired man, Dean noticed. He looked scared, his eyes practically jumping out of his sockets, his mouth hanging open.

Wanting to dispel the disconcerting situation, Dean drew attention to himself again, saying seductive words, even if there was no real intention on either side.

They paid and left, the air now tense between them. Dean wasn’t going to comment, a bit perplexed by his roommate's reaction. Castiel was shy, stern, quiet. Dean already knew that . But now he wondered if Castiel would not be ... a virgin?

He couldn’t comprehend the fact that a man, in the midst of the twenty-first century, was still a virgin at the age of nineteen. And frightened in the face of a woman who clearly was just joking.

He would leave that aside for now, for his incipient relationship with the young man who was walking with his eyes down. Dean started talking again about generic subjects, determined to make the colleague not feel so bad.

But he couldn’t help feeling they came from completely different and distant worlds that might never have been made to meet.


	4. They said we made a perfect 'trio' *

Part of the fact that the two boys had gotten so well together for the months they had been living together was a result of having very strict routines and different schedules, which made them meet only a few times over the course of the week.

Castiel woke up very early and went out for a run. When he returned to their room, Dean had usually left for morning classes. When Castiel returned at night, he would find Dean studying or reading in bed. Not even the sharing of the bathroom was reason for stress, because they used it every other time and Castiel was as fanatical about cleanliness and organization as Dean.

Sunday, when they didn’t have classes, could be the time for more contact between them, but as things were, this rarely occurred. Dean had set Saturday nights to relax, which he usually did in female company. He left the room at night, returning in the morning most of the time. When he went to bed, Castiel was still asleep. When he woke up, the other had left the room to spend the rest day doing whatever he did for fun. But Dean was almost certain that women were I not featured prominently in his roommates routine. Well, not the special place they had on Dean's, at least.

Returning from summer vacation to a new semester, Dean opened the door to find Castiel sitting on his bed, watching over the row of succulents he had cultivated on the window sill.

Dean was amused by this hobby, something that would never interest him, but he didn’t fail to appreciate the diligence with which Castiel took care of his small improvised garden. He smiled and greeted his roommate amicably:

"Hey, Cas! Back to hell, huh? How were the holidays?"

"Fine, thanks. I missed my family, "he said, continuing to look intently into the small pot where one of the plants seemed to have suffered more with that month of Castiel’s absence. Recalling that he was often awkward and failed on socializing, he finally asked, "And yours?"

"It was very good. Sammy and I went camping for a few days. I don’t really like these outdoor activities, but the kid likes them, so... At least it didn’t rain... much. " He said, smiling.

Castiel smiled back, remembering the tall, thin kid he'd met when Bobby had come to get Dean for his vacation. Their conversation would apparently end right there in the amenities. But Dean had decided to learn more about the man he shared the room with, still intrigued by the fact that he was apparently inexperienced with women.

"Any girlfriend waiting anxiously for you?" He asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

Castiel's reaction made him immediately regretted to having asked that. He had lowered his head, staring at his dirt-stained hands for a moment. When he spoke, the voice was small:

"I don’t think about that, Dean. Studies take precedence, then work. Someday, I'll think about it. It's like that in my family. "

"But ..." Dean began, tempted to question the boy who had said those words so seriously. But he stopped, wondering how he could do that.

Faced with Dean's reaction, however, Castiel thought it best to explain better.

"My family believes in a life of work geared to divine glory. Michael and Luke, my older brothers, left our Boston home for college and returned to take up church positions. When they had established themselves as ministers, they began to think about getting married. They chose women who could help them in religious life. It's going to be like that for me too, Dean. "

Dean heard and was ready to reply that this was a horrible philosophy of life, when he remembered that he could talk little about family. With the father he had, he had few reasons to criticize anyone. But he thought about how much Castiel restricted himself by living according to what the family tradition dictated. He asked, then:

"But you ... don’t you feel... the need to be with someone? You're a young man and... "

"Discipline, Dean. The mind dominates the body and there will be time for everything. At the moment, I must prepare myself for the work that awaits me. The rest must stay in the background. "

The young man who had started to unpack, turned to the wall, meditating on those words. When he turned again, he asked, in a low voice, uncertain whether he should do it:

"Do all your brothers accept this ... discipline ... the same way you do? It’s not an easy commitment... "

Castiel cleared his throat and replied without looking directly at Dean.

"No ... Gabriel ... remember that I told you about him? Gabriel ... moved away from us, seeking a more mundane life. We never talked again. "

There it was. Such a rigid philosophy was often the cause of ruptures.

The sadness that showed on Castiel's face made asking anything more personal from that point on indelicate. Dean knew how other people's judgments could be cruel. Trying to clean the air, after a few minutes he asked:

"I have to go to the administration building to get my new schedule for the semester. We could have something to eat if you wanted to go with me and get yours too... "

Castiel could be shy and socially inept, but he understood very well when someone wanted to be kind and remedy an uncomfortable situation.

"That's a good suggestion, Dean," he replied with the smallest of smiles.

The two returned later, with full stomachs and more positive spirits, only to find a young redhead sitting by the door. Castiel was surprised when Dean strode toward her and lifted her from the floor, squeezing her close to his chest. He wondered, worried, if the "no women" rule would change from then on.

"Cas, come meet Charlie ..." They both looked at each other and shook hands.

The smiling girl, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist, quickly made up for any doubt:

"Don’t worry, Cas, I'm not" that ‘kind of woman’.” He winked at Dean.

"Charlie is like the sister I never wanted ..." He replied, grinning. He opened the door and pushed her inside unceremoniously.

"Oh, I love you too, Dean," she said, kissing his freckled face.

Castiel followed, fascinated, the conversation between the friends. He had never seen Dean like this, and immediately liked the short, hyperactive, laughing girl who could arouse that reaction in his roommate. He seemed incredibly comfortable around her, the affection that existed between them crystal-clear.

He envied them for a moment. The life he led, with strict rules of conduct, made him withdraw from his peers, being seen by most people as a hermit at best, and a religious fanatic at worst. He had never known friendship like this in all his life. Even among the brothers there was always a formality that separated them. Only Gabriel had broke the rule. But he hadn’t been able to live like everyone else in his family, and Castiel had found himself feeling lonely when he left.

Castiel stayed there, wishing he could be part of that circle of affection and camaraderie and yet feeling totally unprepared for the task.

Charlie, however, fixed her lively eyes on him and in a few seconds decreed:

"Dean, Castiel is definitely dreamy! I resent you for not having invited me before to meet him. "

Castiel's face instantly showed his surprise. Dean, not desiring a return to the embarrassment of before, said,

"Cas, I have to warn you ... Charlie is a first-rate flatterer..."

"Excellent judge of character, Dean!" The girl retorted with a grimace.

"... but she, unfortunately,bats for the same team as us."

As the meaning of that expression obviously lacked Castiel, Charlie approached him and, touching his arm, said quietly,

"What Dean means is that I like girls, Cas."

Understanding finally struck him. Charlie was gay. That's why she could come to their room. He had never met anyone like this before, his religion condemning homosexuality as a mortal sin.

Looking at her, however, he thought it was sad a person so kind, warm, capable of such deep affection should be judged only by her sexual orientation. He realized, shocked, for the first time in adulthood, questioning some aspect of his religious belief.

The weeks that followed were punctuated by Charlie's presence in their room. Castiel soon became fond of her too, getting accustomed to her positive attitude and her exacerbated interest in pop culture. Dean and his friend introduced Cas to the world of video games (on Saturday afternoons, always, because Dean still his routine of ‘relaxing’ on Saturday nights) and movies, which they watched in the small apartment that the young red-haired woman rented near campus.

Castiel was gradually transformed, not, however, losing his essence. He now considered Dean and Charlie his friends and they came to respect the way he thought. He became more talkative and open, even though he kept his speech extremely correct and punctuated by old-fashioned terms. But that was one of the characteristics that Charlie enjoyed the most.

New experiences, however, had apparently not made him change his attitude when it came to relationships of another nature. Charlie had been astonished when he'd learned what Castiel thought about romantic and sexual experiences, but she knew him well enough by then not to question him. He thought that, over time, he would come to see the situation from a different perspective.

Dean wasn’t so sure, though. He knew how Castiel could be stubborn.

On one of those lazy Saturday afternoons, the three of them were lying on the worn carpet of the girl's living room watching The Lord of the Rings. Castiel had been surprised that she knew most of the dialogs by heart and could recite them along with the actors, having watched the film at least a dozen times. As Dean knew some lines too, they had begun to play the scenes before, which amused Castiel very much.

Dean sometimes voiced Boromir, in other scenes he assumed the persona of Legolas or Sam, but he strictly refused to be Frodo, to Charlie's despair and amusement. Charlie in her turn always made a point of reciting Gandalf's lines. If anyone there was powerful enough to play the gray wizard it was her, obviously.

For the first time since they'd been together, Dean made no move to leave at nightfall. The fact didn’t escape either of them, but it was the girl who asked,

"Nothing planned for tonight, Dean?"

Dean shook his head and muttered that he could make an exception for The Lord of the Rings. He nudged Castiel on the ribs, asking for another slice of pizza, feeling too comfortable there, among friends, to go out in search of transient satisfaction with some random women.

He noticed, a little disconcerted, that not only Cas, but also himself had undergone changes because of that friendship.

The new semester schedules had initially caused some problems for the two men now that they both had early classes most days. It was common to bump into each other the small room as they got ready to leave.

The use of the bathroom also became a cause of friction, since both had to use it at the same time. With the break of the tranquility, they determined, in favor of the continuity of the good coexistence, that at least at the time of bathing they needed their time and privacy. So they made a deal where Castiel would shower in the morning, since he exercised and Dean would do it at night before bed. When they fell into the routine, they realized that their system worked and everything went back to normal.

Dean gradually realized how much Castiel had changed his daily life, but also how much his life had been enriched by his presence. I saw that Cas was, now that I knew him better, an intelligent, trustworthy, and extremely loyal person. And in view of his relationship with Charlie, he could see how affectionate and kind he was. In a short time he began to dedicate a sincere friendship to him, despite their different visions on life.

He felt happier and more accomplished, in fact. He was doing well in college, had good friends, and kept his early plans intact. He was going to be able to do what he had set out to do and still carry the friendship they had built for the rest of his life, he was sure.

But everything changed on a cold February night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * "They said we were the perfect 'trio'" - altered version of the original "They said we made the perfect pair" to include their friendship with Charlie.


	5. How I loved you

Dean remembered with nostalgia that year in which he shared a room with Castiel. So many new experiences, for both of them and for Charlie, had made a time worthy of being remembered. Until it was over.

He turned on the bed, his eyes red, tired of so many tears, unable to sleep. He had been avoiding remembering the moment when things had changed. But now he saw that it had not been a single moment, but a gradual and slow process, culminating in the events of February.

Castiel had been complaining for a few days that he felt tired, that his body ached. Dean asked why he hadn’t gone to see a doctor, but his friend had said it was nothing serious, probably just a cold.

The chilly February weather made it all the more excruciating for Cas, who had been feeling miserable the days before.

On a Thursday night, when Dean entered the room, he found the lights out when it was a time when Castiel would normally be studying there. He wondered if he had gone to the library, but when he touched the switch he noticed that his friend's bed was occupied.

Under a huge pile of blankets he found Castiel, burning. He was shaking, unable to control himself. Dean reached for his first aid kit and took the thermometer, startled by his friend's high temperature.

"Cas ..." he called softly. He insisted until the other returned from his febrile dreams and answered with a weak voice:

"Hello, Dean ..."

"Cas, you have a fever, get up, we need to go to a doctor."

"No, Dean... it's not necessary. I'm going to be okay."

"How are you going to be okay, Cas?”

"It's just the flu, Dean. I am fine."

"Flu or not, your temperature is dangerously high." Dean's face was concerned. "Have you taken any medicine?"

"I took two aspirins when I arrived ..." It turned out that it had been seven hours earlier. Dean fumbled for an antipyretic, but there were none. As he began to despair, he remembered that it was possible to lower the temperature by putting the person in a tub of lukewarm water, as he had once done when Sam had been ill. There was no bathtub there, the shower should work, until he could go out and get some medicine.

Dean ran into the bathroom and turned the shower on, adjusting the temperature until it was colder.

Returning to the room, he removed the blankets, under his friend's protests, making him to sit on the bed. Dean began to undress him until he had only the white, old-fashioned boxers he usually wore on.

Making Cas lean on him, he led him to the adjoining room. Realizing that he would soak his own clothes in the process of holding Cas under the water, he leaned him precariously into the sink and quickly stripped off what he was wearing, matching his roommate's half-naked state.

Wrapping his arms around the trembling body, he carried Cas, slowly pushing him toward the water, so as not to cause any kind of thermal shock. Castiel struggled through the chills as Dean tried to keep him steady.

In his weakened state, Castiel closed his eyes, his temperature dropping slowly. His body leaned against Dean's, who held his friend tightly to his chest, preventing him from falling.

Eventually the shakes quieted down, Cas' eyes seemed less hazy and Dean turned the water off. He took a towel and wrapped it around Cas’ shoulders, rubbing it vigorously against his aching muscles. Castiel moaned softly, but there was no room for hesitation at that moment. Leaning, Dean removed the last piece of clothing his roommate was wearing, throwing it on the floor. He finished drying Cas off and took him back to the room, where he helped him get dressed again, in clean underwear and pajamas. He helped him lay down, making sure his temperature had really dropped. Relieved, he smiled, pushing a strand of damp hair from his forehead.

Castiel had smiled back and thanked him, saying that he felt better. In seconds, he slept soundly.

Dean returned to the bathroom to finally discard the soaking piece of clothing that clung to his body. The concern, however, was not entirely gone. He decided that Castiel would see a doctor the next morning, whether he wanted to or not. He tested the temperature again with the back of his hand before going out to buy the medicine Cas needed.

Dr. Manners had seen them in the emergency room the next morning. Castiel had scared Dean with his pallor when he woke up, and now, sitting in the cold light of the office where Dean had made a point of accompanying his friend, he saw that his appearance was even worse.

It was not the flu, but pneumonia and hospitalization was necessary. Dean would take him to the university hospital and leave him under professional care.

When Castiel was already settled in a room, where he would stay for at least the next three days, Dean finally called Charlie. The young woman was very worried and soon came to meet him at the hospital. Visits were limited and they could return only in the late afternoon.

Charlie took Dean by for breakfast, which, in the eagerness to care for his friend, he had completely forgotten.

Sitting in the diner, his food untouched in front of him, for the first time Dean began to realize just how much Castiel was important in his life. Much more important than he had previously thought. He felt their relationship was completely different from what he'd believed until then... Instead of shocking him, the thought comforted him.

Charlie's peering gaze followed his slightest movements. She seemed to realize what was going on in Dean's mind. Her hand slid across the table and squeezed his freckled fingers.

Returning to the room, missing classes for the first time in more than two years, he sat for a few moments, only to see Castiel's undone bed. He contemplated existence as he had known it before Cas came to live there, and no matter how he felt then, he knew it would never be the same.

Wanting to occupy his mind until it was time to go to the hospital again, he got up and removed the sheets where the fevered man had slept. He gathered up the sweaty pajamas and wet underwear in the bathroom. He went down to the laundry room, where he waited for the washing and drying process, entertained only by his own thoughts.

He dissected the feelings he recently discovered. There was no doubt, however, that it was an unprecedented event. The naturalness with which he recognized and accepted them was also something new.

In his life, up until that moment he only loved his closest family members and Bobby and Charlie. He had never cared about anyone else as he cared for Cas. It was not this thought, however, that perplexed him, to feel so close to someone he had known so recently. It was something else, that made him feel excited, not just at the prospect of turning their relationship into something different, but a heat that invaded his being only to think of the way Castiel smiled or tipped his head when confused. Admiration for his intelligence and discipline only added to a deeper, stronger feeling that made him tremble inside, the anticipation of what they might come to be, and the fear of being rejected fighting bravely to see who would prevail in the end.

But he knew: this battle could only be decided when he made known to the other what he felt. And that, for the moment, was out of the question.

Dean waited for Charlie in the hospital lobby and together they got into the room.

Castiel seemed a little better, having been medicated and rested enough, without the concern of school activities. He smiled widely when he saw his friends enter and thanked Dean again for taking care of him.

Charlie's gaze lingered longer on Dean's face, trying to catch a glimpse of what she had suspected that morning. It didn’t take her long to get confirmation of that, even though the object of feeling seemed completely oblivious to the explicit demonstration on Dean’s green eyes.

She smiled, thinking how good it should be to find love in a friend, someone with whom she had other things in common. She craved something similar for herself and was glad Dean could have it. But he knew, even if she didn’t want to dwell on this question, what the same-sex relationships represented to Castiel's family.

She wished he could make the world around them shut up and let them live. Loving should never be considered a sin or cause for shame. But she was too experienced to deceive herself that way.

Charlie took both their hands as they talked and wished it all to go well with the friends she loved deeply.

Castiel's return to shared accommodation was a happy occasion for Dean, as he saw his friend in recovery, even though he still needed rest and attention. On the other hand, he saw the need to expose what he felt to the man with expressive blue eyes. That caused him great anxiety.

Castiel must have noticed some change in his behavior, since his gaze followed him everywhere, as if intrigued by something.

Dean tried to hide from those uncomfortable stares by studying (or pretending to study) while Castiel was awake. Still, he could feel the focus of those eyes on the back of his head.

Charlie came to see them a few times, but sensed she had to get out of that equation if she wanted to see it sorted out soon. On bidding farewell to the two, she pleaded extensive work to justify her absence in the coming days. She hoped that Dean would take action.

That night, listening to Castiel's soft snore, Dean found it difficult to sleep. Having the object of his affection so close and improving every day, made Dean imagine innumerable scenarios where he would tell him what he felt and what he wanted.

Thinking of desire, his treacherous mind brought back the images of Castiel's nakedness, of the closeness they had had when nothing could have happened between them. Now, however, the memory of the lean body came to torture him. He remembered the droplets flow down his perfect skin, the wet boxers clinging to his body, allowing Dean a glimpse of what they contained. He remembered having stripped Cas naked, with no other intention than to make him feel better, and thought that now he would do it cheerfully, just for the purpose of giving him pleasure.

Dean narrowed his eyes, the anguish gripping him. Castiel would return to classes the next day. How long would it take for him to have courage and express what he felt? And he wondered how Cas would react to it all.

Dean couldn’t sleep that night again.

The lack of sleep began to affect Dean and obviously Castiel sensed that something was wrong. He might also be showing symptoms of some disease, for the weather was inclement.

Cas had come into the room carrying a brown paper bag and a lidded cup. Dean turned his head toward the door, greeting his friend with a tired smile. He returned to the book he was reading and  what Castiel had brought was placed in front of him.

Feeling the other man standing at his back, his arms stretched out over his shoulders, Dean felt a surge of heat seep through him.

"Coffee and cherry pie. Let's see if you cheer up a little" he said, the concern noticeable in his tone.

"Thank you, Cas, you shouldn’t..."

"You're my friend, Dean, and I worry about you. Eat before it gets cold. "

Dean opened the container he found in the bag, the delicious scent of the pie making his mouth water. Taking the plastic fork, he took out a portion and placed it in his mouth, moaning softly. In an unthinking manner, he took another bite and offered it to his friend, who was still standing beside him.

For a moment Castiel seemed uncertain about what to do, but eventually he lowered his body and let Dean feed him a piece of pie from his own fork.

That closeness made Dean unable to breathe. If there was any doubt that the other man attracted him, he would have been destroyed by that sensation. He felt the urge to kiss those full, rosy lips, but only met his blue eyes with his and smiled.

Castiel moved away, perhaps uncomfortable with the proximity. Dean lowered his head, thinking it was impossible. He finished eating the pie, drank the coffee Cas had brought, just the way he liked it, and got up. He thanked Cas again and, taking a towel, walked to the bathroom. Maybe if he stood under a hot shower for some time, he would be numb enough to sleep.

As he entered the stall, he couldn’t suppress the memories of the two of them, standing there in that same place, their bodies entwined, albeit innocently. It was easy to finish the 'movie' playing in his mind differently, but he wouldn’t do it. Not with the other man in the next room.

He put on some plaid pajama pants and a T-shirt. He opened the door and found Cas reading, trying to make up for lost time.

What would it be like if… they were lovers, boyfriends? No doubt Dean would walk there, wrap Cas' shoulders and kiss him on the back of his neck until he gave up studying... _No_ , he shouldn’t be carried away by those thoughts.

Dean sat on his bed, still focused to his friend's tanned neck. He longed to run his fingers through his dark hair while... He lay down quickly and mumbled a 'good night' determined to get some sleep.

He made a decision at that very moment: he would tell Castiel everything the next day. He couldn’t stand this uncertainty any longer.

During the torturous day, he drew up a plan of action. He would casually invite Cas to eat something. In the restaurant, which was a neutral place, during the conversation, he would begin hint about his feelings. He didn’t think he could tell him bluntly. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do. But he had never felt like that before either.

He thought that, depending on the other's reaction, he could go on and say something or prepare to hide those feelings in the darkest corner of his mind and think of Cas as a friend again. It wouldn’t be easy, but it might have to, since life without Castiel was unthinkable.

He entered the room, the anxiety burning his insides. He couldn’t think of anything else. He dusted the books that were already in order on the shelf, smoothed the bed covers, fluffed his pillow... The wait was making him crazy! He sat down, thinking that it would seem more casual if he was studying... He opened a book, closed it. It wouldn’t be that day, after all. He got up, determined to go to Charlie's apartment, to ask her for advice.

He took the jacket from the back of the chair and strode to the door. He opened it and almost collided with Castiel coming in.

He cleared his throat, trying to hide his embarrassment, even though Cas didn’t know what was going on.

"Hello, Dean," he said, smiling, closing the door behind him. Before he could take off his jacket, Dean had already pushed him against the door and looked into those beautiful blue eyes. Damn Charlie's plans and advice. That was as direct as he could be.

Cas' surprised face should have stopped him, but Dean had a mission. It was then or never.

He molded his mouth against Cas' softly. His eyes closed as relief and fear settled on his chest.

Cas stood still for a few fractions of a second, until his lips began to respond slowly. Dean became bolder then and licked Cas's lower lip.

After a momentary hesitation, Castiel opened his lips and the touch of their tongues was delicate and sensual. Dean had his hands against the door, but one of them slid into Castiel's hair, making him to tilt his head, deepening the kiss.

He felt the moment Cas’ hands, which were still gripping the sleeves of his coat, moved to wrap around his waist and pull him closer. When Cas’ body leaned against his, Dean could feel that Castiel was also aroused by their proximity.

Dean brought his other hand down, setting Cas against the door only with the pressure of his body. He touched his face, his fingers tracing the angle of his jaw before descending down his neck. He thought about bringing his mouth there, feeling the taste so often imagined, when the strength of Castiel's arms pushed him away.

Stumbling back, he trembled at the sight in front of him. Castiel looked out of breath, his face red. The eyes, however, had an expression of horror that made Dean choke.

Cas tore off his coat and threw it away. The fury that Dean saw in Castiel's face made him immediately back away, regretting not having thought of it more thoroughly.

"What do you think you're doing, Dean?" He spat, his jaw locked.

"Cas, I..." he had to explain but how?  "I ... we need to talk."

"Obviously. We should have talked before this."

"I'm sorry, that was very... impulsive of me... I should have told you how... how I feel..."

"And how do you feel, Dean? Tell me for I have to tell you, _I feel betrayed_. "

"No... I... I think I like you, Cas... I've been thinking about it for days..."

" _Like_ me? That was enough reason to attack me without warning... "

"Cas, listen to me, please... I've never felt like this for any other person... for any other guy..."

"And you shouldn’t! It is against the Law of God! How could you do that? " He said, his voice cold.

"Against the Law... Cas, don’t tell me you're going to let that get in the way ... I know you liked it, I felt you liked it..."

"Don’t let _that_ get in the way? There is no way, Dean! There is nothing between us, now that the friendship that I believed existed is dead. I don’t know how I could think that... Dean, it is a sin, don’t you see? Surrendering to this sort of thing ... is a deadly sin!" At Dean’s perplexed stare, he stopped talking for a moment, just to pick up the piece of clothing he had thrown and put it back on.

Dean, standing in the middle of the room, tried to deal with what he just heard. He thought Castiel was no longer like that. He had changed, he had accepted Charlie...

"I need to get out of here," the dark-haired man said, his eyes on the ground.

"Cas, no... I know... you feel something for me..."

"Yes, Dean, I do. I feel repulsed by you! Get out of the way, please. "

Taking a step to give him passage, Dean listened as the door slammed. He kicked a chair before sitting on the bed, feeling absolutely devastated.

He thought of Charlie again. He needed to talk to her. Still stunned by all that had happened, he put on his leather jacket and left.

When he returned the next morning, there was no trace of Castiel Novak having lived there. 


	6. How I cried

Turning on the bed, his back killing him, Dean decided to get up, long before the sun rose.

As in 2003, he needed an almost super human effort to get on with the daily activities. But before... there was hope. A tiny hope that what had happened could be overcome. He could believe they would eventually (even if he never met the man again and there was little chance of that happening) forget their mistakes, that Castiel could see beyond his narrow visions of the world and forgive him. Now, however, there was nothing left, and the tears that fell would be the last.

He went into the kitchen and was tempted to empty the bottle of Jack Daniels he had stored for occasions like that. That would be ideal, but he needed to be sober for the funeral. Cas deserved his respect.

He filled the coffee machine with water. Coffee would have to do it. For now. Later, it was another story. Jack would not survive to see another day.

He sent a message to his brother, advising that the funeral service would be in the afternoon and that he would pick Sam up at his office.

He went back to the bedroom, turned on the lights, and looked in the closet for the black suit. Still incredulous, he set it on the bed. The emotional state he was in was a near-perfect reflection of when Cas had left his life - for the first time.

 

 

Dean had then relieved his hurt heart on the arms of anyone who crossed his path. To begin, he had chosen a man.

A classmate who had always tried to approach him without success suddenly had the dubious honor of being the first man Dean had ever had sex with. Was it a sin? Against the laws of God? Soon, he was on his way to hell, with no possibility of return. He'd liked that, and from that point on he'd assumed his bisexuality.

A multitude of nameless faces filled his nights, no longer limited to Saturdays. The rule about getting people in the room? Revoked. There was so much traffic that one of the neighbors complained about the noise.

Dean had lost sight of his purpose, and for a few months he wandered aimlessly, abandoning even the friend who could give him some consolation. But it was she who took the attitude that put him back on track.

Knowing how important Sam was to Dean, Charlie contacted him, explaining what had happened. She wondered if she should tell him that the cause of all this was Castiel. She didn’t, protecting the privacy of the man she loved as much as a brother. If he ever wanted to tell Sam the truth, it would be his prerogative.

Sam, whose maturity was beyond his age, asked Bobby to take him to Vermillion to see Dean. The trip was short, but the old mechanic had to give up several appointments to make the journey at that time of year. Alerted to the fact that Dean was in trouble, however, there had been no more resistance.

One Saturday morning, Dean had been awakened by an insistent knock on the door. Tempted to let the person knock, he turned toward the wall, covering his head with the sheet. Bobby's voice calling him made him get to his feet quickly.

Luckily, he was alone, the guy he'd been with the night before having left soon after sex. The room was a mess, however.

When he opened the door he found two disappointed faces outside.

"If that's what you came here for, kid, pack your bags and we'll get back to Sioux Falls right away." The mature man he considered his second father mumbled.

That was the shock he needed to get back on track. He reviewed his initial plans and decided to resume them. When Sam had asked about Castiel, he had said nothing, except that he had left for personal reasons.

Now, however, there was no way Bobby or Sam could help him. He'd lost Cas forever.

The funeral home would be crowded, judging by the amount of cars in the parking lot. Dean found a parking spot, but he couldn’t find the courage to step out the Impala.

Sam waited a few minutes before opening the door and getting out. His brother followed him after all. His face with only too much effort didn’t show what that loss meant to him.

With a hand on his shoulder, Sam led Dean to the double doors of the auditorium. Flowers in profusion adorned the entrance and corridor. Many people were still standing at the table where the presence book was and the photo of the deceased on an easel, whose view was obstructed by the small crowd. Dean turned away from it, picking a spot in the back row, unconsciously trying to stay as far as possible from the black coffin.

A door opened and a minister walked to the pulpit at the opposite end of the hall, which made everyone sit down.

Dean's eyes were lowered. Sam respected his silence, wishing he could do something more effective to help his brother, but he knew that only time would be able to ease that pain.

Finally, the relatives of the deceased entered by the same door where the minister came and settled in the first row of seats. Dean refused to look, as he didn’t want to see who had raised Castiel that prejudiced way.

Sam, however, watched as a lady entered behind two tall men, her face impassive. It was supposed to be the matriarch of the family. Behind her were a few other women and two light-haired boys. Finally, a man in a wheelchair, his leg immobilized in a cast, came in pushed by some other relative. It must be Balthazar, the brother who had survived the accident.

When all had sat down, the minister cleared his throat and began to speak:

"Dear friends, we are gathered here to celebrate a life. A life cut short abruptly, in its most fruitful moment. Mr. Novak, however, lives now in the bosom of the Lord, where he will no longer suffer the hardships of this world. He is at peace. "

Dean wanted to close his ears not to listen to anything that was related to that prejudiced and restrictive form of religion. He squeezed his eyes tightly, trying to push away the last image he had of Castiel in his mind. He definitely hadn’t been at peace then.

"His mother and brothers will remember him as an affable, intelligent man endowed with unbreakable faith. His work at the community where he served as minister, will be his legacy. Many will miss him, his friendly hand, his welcoming gaze. But let us remember that God never forsake the righteous and that he was destined for eternal life. "

Saying this, he made a discreet gesture to Castiel's mother, to come up and say a few words.

With difficulty, holding the hand of one of her older children, Naomi Novak climbed the few steps and approached the microphone.

The voice was surprisingly strong and composed as he began to speak:

"Being a woman of faith as I am, I must not mourn the loss of my beloved son. He was taken by God when He judged the right time. I believe that his work on this Earth was done and that he will rest with the Lord, the just reward for the devotion and faith he has always shown. We shall, however, feel a lack of his warm presence and his unyielding spirit. "

A pause followed, so that the woman could look up at the closed coffin below her, surrounded by flowers.

"Dear son Balthazar, I bid you farewell today..."

Dean's head jerked up. _Balthazar_? He looked at Sam, a spark of hope shining on his face. He frowned, not understanding what was happening.

Dean's heart thumped. Was there some mistake? Castiel... had he survived the accident? His eyes searched for the old friend, but it was impossible to see anything from where he was.

He turned to the door, where was the portrait of the deceased. On a frame, a blond, smiling man stared at him.

Dean swallowed hard. Tears of relief welled in his eyes and he dried them with a sigh. Castiel was alive. Although nothing had changed between them, Castiel was alive.

When the service was over and everyone stood up, Dean stood on tiptoe to look at the family, who was hugging, tearful, in the front row. Two men, however, kept their distance. One of them was short and blond, his face closed in a scowl. The other, in a wheelchair, had dark hair in disarray and a tear-stained face.

Even at that distance Dean could tell that his swollen eyes were blue. The most impressive shade of blue he had ever known.


	7. To Start Again With Somebody New

Sam pulled Dean by the arm, toward the front of the auditorium.

"Hey, what are you doing?" He asked with a frown.

"We're going to present our condolences to the family," Sam replied innocently.

"I'm not going to talk to those hypocrites. Let's go."

"You came here and discovered that Castiel is alive... and you won’t do anything about it? Not even say hi?"

"I came to say goodbye to him, if he was ... you know. He isn’t. Nothing has changed between us. He doesn’t want to see me, I know. "

"But Dean ..."

"Let's get out before all these folks have the same idea ..." he said quickly, seeing Castiel and the man pushing his chair were making their way through the crowd toward the exit. They received condolences on their way out, but didn’t stop to talk to anyone. Dean needed to get out of there as soon as possible. He took two steps toward the door and turned to see Sam looking around.

"Let's go man! What are you waiting for?"

"I need to go to the bathroom. Go ahead, I'll meet you at the gate. "

"Dammit!" Grunted the older brother. Sam always needed to ‘go’ at the wrong time.

He strode to the car, stepped in, and watched. Soon Cas and his friend got to the door and left the building quickly. The man pushed the wheelchair to a nearby car, helped Castiel in, and folded the chair into the trunk. Dean saw when they left, before turning on the engine of his own car. As soon as he did it, he saw Sam coming out at last, and hurried to fetch him.

What would he do with what he had discovered today about Castiel? Probably nothing. Though his heart had relieved to see him alive, nothing had changed. Castiel was part of that horrible family and considered Dean a sinner with no salvation. What was there to actually do?

Dean honked, as discreetly as he could, but Sam frowned anyway. He was always more concerned with social conventions than his older brother.

They left the place, a strange silence between them. Sam preferred to think that Dean was thinking about how to reconnect, now that he knew that Castiel was in California.

Dean, in fact, was thinking of a quick way to relieve the renewed, sharper pain he felt. _Zeke_. Yes, he was going to call Zeke.

Ezekiel was an employee of a competing company with the one for which Dean worked. They had met at a seminary in Arizona two years earlier. Tall, strong, and handsome he had caught Dean’s attention immediately. Zeke’s attitude, calm and relaxed - the guy meditated, if that was possible - had a positive effect on Dean when he felt too stressed. Not that there was anything serious between them. They met sporadically whenever one of them needed to be distracted. They had a few beers, watched some sports, had sex. Then it was a pause, until one of them called again, a few months later.

Arriving at the office, the first thing he did was sending a message to the man, asking if he was available for a drink that night.

It did not take long for the answer to come.

_'Of course. Where?'_

Dean typed in the name of a sports bar in Santa Monica, which was closer to the other's house than his own.

 _'See you later.'_ It was the laconic response. But that's what Dean needed. To be reminded that he was free to go out with whomever he wanted, just because the person was open minded or good in bed. Zeke was both.

He left the office, opening his collar. He hated going anywhere in a suit, but there was no time to go home and change. The traffic he would face to the place they were going to meet it would be impossible to get there on time

He tore off his tie and jacket and put them in the backseat. He folded the shirt cuffs and opened his white shirt further, sighing. He could always take a shower at Zeke's house. He counted on that, actually.

He remembered the large bathroom in Zeke’s house, the spectacular shower it had. Dean thought he might need to renovate his apartment and install a shower with side jets. He thought of Ezekiel's pale, muscular body, splattered by the water that came from all sides. He was strong enough to support a tall man like Dean against the tiled wall when he wanted to. Dean wouldn’t find a partner like that easily. At the thought, he started to get excited. It would be a great night.

He parked the Impala away from the entrance, the place was busy, being a major basketball final day. He wasn’t planning on watching it, but it didn’t matter. They could stay for a while and then leave. It was what he expected.

He entered and soon saw the handsome man at the bar. He was staring at the screen, an amber bottle in his hands. He smiled when he saw Dean approaching. The latter also ordered a beer and watched the game for a few minutes, exchanging only impressions about the players. Nothing personal was said.

Dean finished his beer and prevented his partner from ordering another. His gaze was reveling . They got up, paid the bill and left.

They walked to the Impala, for Zeke had left his car at home. When they were in the semi-darkness of the vehicle, Dean slid a hand down the thigh of the attractive man who sat beside him and smiled. The car pulled away, disappearing around the corner toward Ezekiel's house.

Dean fumbled for the light switch. It was late.

He still felt the pleasant sensations, his body relaxed, even if he knew he would be sore the next day. Things between them were always like that: fast, passionate, athletic. Dean felt physically exhausted, in the best way possible.

He lay on the bed, dressed as he was, even though he knew he would regret the next morning. But he did not want to think about anything. Sleeping. It was all he needed.

He woke up late for he had forgotten to set the alarm. He looked confused at his clothes, taking a few moments to remember why he had slept in a suit. A black suit.

The memories of the previous day flooded his mind instantly, bringing back the pain. As he undressed for a quick shower in his less-than-perfect bathroom, he tried to remember the encounter the night before. He needed that. He would not let Castiel regain control of his thoughts again, as he had done more than a decade before.

As he drove to work he wondered if he should contact Zeke again. No. He decided not to force anything. Things between them were good as they were. He would think of another alternative.

Maybe the new supervisor's secretary. Yes, he would do that.

 


	8. I have no heart, I'm cold inside

A couple of months had passed since the funeral. Dean's life had resumed its normal rhythm. Or almost. The need to stifle the thoughts that were still dominated by Castiel had made him to devote himself more and more to going out and meeting people. Meeting people and coming to know them more intimately, so to speak. But not so much that they were remembered in the long run.

Sam had already tried to express his disappointment with his brother's hedonistic disposition but Dean never listened to him. Life was short, as he had seen in that funeral home, and he was going to enjoy it while he was young and attractive.

Madison and Sam had tried to help him in the process of overcoming what he felt, though it was forbidden to mention anything about it. They invited him to lunch on Sundays and sat with him to watch the movies he loved. It was an improved revival of his university days, he thought. Without the anxiety and fear of rejection. Madison was kind and warm, accepting her brother-in-law as a real brother. She reminded him of Charlie sometimes.

Sam was the old mass of feelings, good intentions and clumsiness that had always been, trying to be present when Dean needed it. It was his way of saying that he loved him and that he felt grateful for being a father to him.

During the week it was common for Sam to also invite him to lunch, even if it meant facing a complicated drive between workplaces. Sam was a partner in a law firm that had his headquarters in a neighborhood far from the one where Dean worked. With the excuse that there were more dining options near Dean's company, he would always meet with his brother, sparing him the trouble of finding a place to park the Impala.

Seated at an outside table in an Italian restaurant, taking advantage of the mild autumn weather in Los Angeles, Dean told of his latest conquest: an aspiring actress with a spectacular body. Sam listened, shaking his head, thinking that his brother would never mature.

After the spicy tale, Sam cleared his throat and brought up a business matter, something Dean didn’t like very much. But it was a situation that could count on Dean's specialty, so he talked about the meeting he'd had that morning.

The person wanted to sue an automotive company, based on the failure of the brakes in an accident. This kind of lawsuit would usually got the client a lot of money on and Sam, like any other lawyer, had become interested and intended to take up the case. But he needed a technical opinion, which Dean, as a mechanical engineer, could provide. A portion of the fees would be assigned to him for his technical advice, if he accepted.

Dean could make use of some extra money and so he agreed. Sam told him that he would send him the technical specifications of the car model and other necessary documents later. The last part was only half-heard as the freckled man's eyes followed a young man with an absolutely seductive smile on the other side of the street.

Sitting on his couch, Dean had his phone on hand, wondering whether or not to call the last number added to his long list of contacts.

He was actually a little tired, but he had set up a routine for himself, going out at least twice a week. He felt unmotivated that day, though the memory of the man's handsome face made him smile. Maybe the next day, he thought, stretching. He picked up the thick briefcase Sam had sent him and grimaced. It was a thing for some hours of work, but if they won the suit, they would earn a good amount.

That was good since he was planning a vacation. So maybe he could go to an island in the Caribbean or something like that. That thought motivated him to leaf through the documents.

When he realized it, it was past midnight. He had entertained himself with the technical specifications and tests, looking for a breach. But as much as he read and re-read, compared the data with others he had found online, he didn’t see how that lawsuit could be won. There was no basis for the complaint. The brakes could hardly be the cause of the accident.

He quickly organized the papers, completing his preliminary report. He would review everything the next night, but he was disappointed. He feared having to say goodbye to his vacation plans on a tropical beach. He lay down, exhausted.

Sam was heartbroken to hear of the situation. He wanted that money, but he hadn’t specified for what. Dean had told him on the phone that he would check the data again, but that he didn’t have high hopes.

That night, unable to go out again he was cranky. He thought about finishing the work quickly and calling someone.

As soon as the report was complete and it was really negative, he took his phone. He looked again at the number of the young woman he had met at the gym, but despite being athletic and beautiful, Dean needed a man.

He decided to call Zeke again. Almost two months had passed since their last encounter and he decided it was a good time.

Zeke didn’t pick up. Well, it was late. He sent a brief text. Tomorrow, no doubt, he would have an answer.

Dean went to bed, in anticipation of another stimulating encounter with Ezekiel.

Dean shook his head thoughtfully. It was lunchtime already and Zeke hadn’t answered his message yet. _He must be out of town_ , Dean thought, annoyed. With no alternative, he called a young man he had also met at the gym. Well, it was not so bad when he remembered the guy’s muscular thighs. He could easily imagine them around his own waist.

Sam had received Dean's report and passed it on to the client, informing him that there was no basis for a lawsuit. Not at least one that could be won.

Still the man was pushy and requested another meeting, to review with Sam the conclusions of the technical advisor, who should be present this time.

Dean thought of refusing, but as it was, he was entitled to a small commission. He had to be there, Sam had told him, the next afternoon.

Annoyed for his last night encounter had been a complete failure, he went to his immediate superior's office to request some time off the following day. Zachariah was a jerk and no doubt would ask Dean to do overtime to compensate.

The brothers had lunch together and they head back to Sam's office. He had already noticed his Dean's irritable disposition, but he wouldn’t mentioned it, afraid to annoy him even more. They had a client to talk to and they needed to be courteous.

They sat on opposite sides of the table, waiting for the man who had an early afternoon appointment. Sam's secretary soon announced his arrival.

A light-haired man walked into the office and shook hands with both of them. He sat down, ready to refute what he was told, his determination apparent in his attitude.

“Mr. Richards, Dean was the engineer responsible for the technical report. Would you like him to explain in detail his conclusions? "

“Mr. Winchester " Mr. Richards said, grinning as he realized he was addressing them both at the same time using that name "don’t you think there is room for doubt in the report I've sent you? The auto industry is known for cost cuts that often result in serious accidents. "

“Mr. Richards, I agree that in the past there was scope for many lawsuits but over time they have become more judicious. The type of brake used in this model is one of the most reliable in its class and there has never been another accident directly related to its failure. Comparatively... "

"So you can definitely exclude any kind of brake failure? Is there no indication of other mechanical failure? "

"I believe, if I may say so, that the cause of this accident, as reported in the documents, was entirely due to human error. I fear that if you insist on this process, you will certainly lose."

The client clasped his hands in front of him, joining his fingers as if meditating. The brothers looked at each other and waited.

At last he looked up, his face contracted. When he began to speak, his voice was almost somber in tone:

"I must be honest with you. This process is, as I shall say, of vital importance, not for me, but for a person who is very dear to me. I feel that if I report to him the conclusions you have reached, it won’t be enough for him. I accept your verdict, but I would need it passed directly to whoever is the client. I know that your time is restricted and that you have other obligations to fulfill, but I beg you to agree to another meeting, so that you show and explain the negative report to the person in question. Of course I would be willing to pay a little extra for the inconvenience and for your precious time. "

Dean frowned, but nodded slightly. He was going to demand from Sam the difference to be paid, just because he had to go and talk to Zach again.

When the meeting was over and another was scheduled for the next morning, Dean left.

Still intrigued by Ezekiel's lack of reply, Dean returned the next morning to Sam's office. His disposition had not improved at all, waiting for a useless meeting with a client whose stubbornness seemed to surpass his good sense.

Sitting in the same chair as the day before, he played with his phone. Another chair had been added to the room, and Sam was talking to Madison on the phone:

"Yes, yes, I'll tell him... Of course, I won’t forget... I love you too." The inflection was too sweet. Dean would mock his brother over that whenever he could, but he actually admired the fact that they were a near-perfect couple.

"Madison asked me to tell you that you'll be cooking lunch next Sunday... To make up for it, she'll bake you a pie..." Sam stopped talking, interrupted by the high-pitched intercom.

"Yes, Doris."

"Mr. Richards has arrived."

"Tell them to come in, please."

The door opened and Mr. Richards's familiar face appeared. He took a step back, turning to give passage to his companion. Apparently the person had difficulty walking, for they heard the sound of a cane softly hitting the wooden floor.

Dean rolled his eyes impatiently. He looked back to his phone for a moment. When he looked up again, reaching out to the stranger, he froze.

Standing in front of him, beside the well-known Mr. Richards and supported by a cane, was none other than Castiel Novak.


	9. I have no real intent

Fury grew inside Dean, but he tried to control himself. Castiel was there in Sam's office. His own brother, no doubt, had to have something to do with that 'unexpected' encounter. He turned to Sam and said,

"Is that some kind of joke, Sam?"

But looking at his face, he saw that he was surprised, so astonished that he didn’t know what to say.

"Easy, Mr. Winchester. The _other_ Mr. Winchester knew nothing. And truth be told, not my little brother here" said the man who had hitherto identified himself as Mr. Richards.

Glancing at Castiel, Dean realized that he was also furious and ready to leave. He turned to Sam and said, apologetically,

“Mr. Win... Sam, forgive my brother's attitude. Dean... I hope you know I have nothing to do with this. If you'll excuse me... " and he started walking toward the door.

But the short man stood in front of Cas, trying to avoid his departure.

"Cassie, please, at least listen to me..."

"Gabriel, get out of my way. You've been too inconvenient already. "

Dean remembered the brother Castiel had mentioned so many times, the one with whom he had the closest bond and whom he had lost contact with.

Sam, finally realizing the potential of that moment, tried to join forces with Gabriel. After all, he also thought those two had a lot to talk.

“Mr. Richards... this is not your real name, I believe… can I call you Gabriel? I'd like to hear what you have to say. Everyone has the right to explain..."

Dean and Castiel turned to Sam, identical looks of indignation on their faces.

"He can explain himself as much as he wants, Sam. I don’t have to listen. Excuse me" Dean said, heading for the door. He avoided ostensibly looking at Castiel, glaring at his brother.

"Alright, alright!" Gabriel hurried to say, clearing the passage. He wouldn’t risk being punched. Besides, he had seen in Sam a possible ally. If both their brothers were gone, he could talk to Sam in private.

Dean made a move to leave, but he noticed the man leaning on a cane and motioned for Castiel to step forward.

The situation was awkward, to say the least. Castiel thanked him with a nod and left, his injured leg in the accident preventing him from walking faster.

Dean, realizing that things could get even worse, restricted in that narrow hallway with Castiel, turned around and headed for the bathroom down the hall, in the opposite direction. He took refuge there, trying to get his thoughts in order.

Leaning against the door, breathing fast, he found his mind flooded with contradictory thoughts. One of them told him that Castiel didn’t know that, probably... It was all Gabriel's doing. But there was no way of being sure. Seeing Castiel like that... He had changed a little. But... he looked even better... Dean closed his eyes, angry that he felt all this for the person who had made him suffer the most. He remembered the difficulty in walking ... Had he been incapacitated forever? Cas had been a runner... That should be... He cut off the thought, hating himself for not being able to hate the man who had made his life change in so many ways. His heart throbbed and Dean made a point of ignoring his feelings.

He walked to the sink and wet his face, trying to calm himself. He had to do something... He couldn’t stay there, hidden all morning. He had never been a coward. He wiped his face on a paper towel and left. He didn’t want to talk to Sam. He left the bathroom, walked resolutely toward the exit.

Sitting in his car, before anything else, he took his phone and searched for a name in the contact list.

"Zeke? Hi!"

His head ached, but he had to do it. Ezekiel was the antidote to all those conflicting feelings within him. Pure and simple sex. They were going to meet in the same bar the previous time as soon as Dean left his office.

Entering the crowded place, he searched for the familiar figure. He shouldn’t have come yet. Dean sat at one end of the bar, close enough to the screen to catch the latest sport news. Or at least distract his mind for a few moments, because he didn’t have much interest in it all.

He felt a light touch on his shoulder and turned to see the man he'd arranged to meet. Zeke was still in his suit, his tie neatly set, as Dean had never seen him so composed since the first meeting, so many months earlier.

His whole attitude seemed more tense, which wasn’t usual.

"Hello, Dean," he said, sitting up and motioning for the waiter.

"Hi, Zeke. Thanks for coming, "Dean replied, suddenly feeling unsure of what to say, even if amenities had never mattered between them.

"Have they shown the results of basketball yet?" Asked the taller man, pointing the bottle of beer toward the TV.

"Um, I don’t know ... I wasn’t paying much attention.” Distraught, he took another long sip. "You think we could... skip this part today and... just... go?" He tried to smile seductively, but he knew he hadn’t been successful.

"Well, Dean, that's the thing… I don’t think so" Ezekiel replied, looking directly into the other's eyes, his face serious.

Dean wasn’t understanding well or had he just being dismissed? He wouldn’t lose his composure, however:

"Ah, sorry, if you can’t today, we could..."

"No, Dean, I'm telling you this shouldn’t happen again."

Dean stopped to look at Ezekiel's face. He couldn’t be saying what he thought he was.

"It's all right. I see... This is over. All right, I get it, man." He countered a little confused, trying to hide the feeling of rejection.

"Don’t, Dean. It's just that ... I'm seeing someone and ... I don’t want you to feel it’s… it's not you... "

"It's not you, it’s me?" Dean laughed mockingly. "I can’t believe I'm going to have to hear this... from a guy I just ... All right, Zeke, I get it. I won’t bother you anymore." He got up, put a note on the counter, and turned around before the man could say another word.

He left, entered the Impala, and slammed the door. His head was about to explode.

Arriving home, frustrated, tired, he wanted to punch something. He undressed and turned the shower on, letting the water run down his sore shoulders, until they were red.

He went to the kitchen not bothering to put anything on. He rummaged through the cabinet where he kept his drinks and found what he was looking for:

"Jack, my old friend ..." he said, looking at the amber liquid. "I can only count on you." He took a swig directly from the bottle.

He dropped down on the couch and turned on the TV, some comedy series on. He stayed there, drinking, trying to forget the horrible day he'd had.


	10. I'm naked and I'm far from home

Castiel left, absolutely in shock. That had never been in the plans. His intention was to continue living there, being friends with Dean, choking what he felt and what he knew to be wrong. He could do it, he was sure. He was disciplined. He never showed signs of what was going on in his heart... Not even Charlie could have been suspicious. Or maybe she did? The conflict within him was huge and he needed to think.

He didn’t know where to go. He couldn’t face Dean anymore, at least for now, after what he had done and said. He sat on a bench in the garden that existed between the buildings. He chose a quiet, secluded place, if Dean left too. He couldn’t talk to him... He simply couldn’t.

His icy hands twitched as he remembered, against his will, the sensations he had felt moments before. He didn’t want to remember it as a good thing. But... It had been good. Very good, so much better than his inexperienced imagination could have guessed. The sensations had been... there were no words in his vocabulary to describe what he had felt.

He thought of those lips on his own. And how, against everything he had decided, he had reciprocated. Without restraint, he had kissed and hugged him, pulled him against his body. He felt... He swallowed hard. He felt how much Dean had gotten aroused. And he was sure he couldn’t hide how much it aroused him too. He lowered his head.

Oh, if that was the way to Hell... How could something so good, so perfect, be sinful?

His father's words, preaching against homosexuality, were more present than ever. The deviation from the standard of God's creation was a sin for which there was no forgiveness.

Strange, he thought, perhaps for the first time. Was loving like this a sin without possibility of redemption? This didn’t look like the idea that God was love and that forgiveness was possible. He couldn’t - now - conceive such idea.

Lifting his eyes, he watched as Dean left the building as well, heading in the direction of Charlie's apartment. He needed support, in the face of what he had heard from Castiel... Charlie would help him, he was sure.

But what about Cas? Who would help him?

Waiting a few more minutes to make sure Dean wasn’t coming back, he stepped into the building again.

Not giving himself a chance to doubt his own resolve, he began packing. He needed to leave that place as soon as possible.

If he ever met the man who he... _loved_ … he desired, he had to admit ... he wouldn’t be able to resist.

Castiel chose a small hotel in the vicinity. He sat in bed, staring at his few possessions. He lay down over the bedspread, the sadness in his chest threatening to seep through his eyes.

Why did it have to be this way? Why? If only...

What was the use of thinking about that now?

He had lost everything.

Everything.

The next morning, in daylight, things didn’t seem so bad. Nothing more serious had happened; he hadn’t let himself be carried away. He had fought bravely and managed to avoid the worst. There were a lot of temptations in the world. Too many. The important thing was to stay true to what he believed. He thought of his family and his home. There, in that musty hotel room, he remembered the large, airy house where his mother always knew what to do.

That was it. God was showing him a direction. He could still get over it all. He could seek comfort in his mother. She would know what to do. She was a strong and godly woman. Mother would know how to help him.

He would go home for a few days and return to South Dakota only when he was strong again.

But one thing was certain. He had to get away from Dean and Charlie. It was they who had made him stray from the righteous path. His own leniency toward the girl's and Dean's sins was the reason of it.

Now he saw it clearly.

 


	11. The years of care and loyalty were nothing but a sham it seems

"Castiel?" It was, by his reaction, the last person Michael expected to find when he opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Michael," he said, his eyes downcast. "I know it's unexpected, but... I had to come home."

"In the middle of the semester? What about your classes? " His face showed his dissatisfaction. Michael had never had sympathy for weak people, who at the slightest sign of trouble ran back to the their mother.

"I'm sorry, but I had to come. Can I... can I stay for a few days? Not a long time, I just need... I need to stay in touch with you for a while. "

"A few days? Well, let's see what Mother is going to say about that... I hope your explanation is convincing, it would be unacceptable to abandon your obligations this way. Well, go upstairs and unpack your things. She should be home soon. "

Castiel l went upstairs to his room. The house seemed to him a paradise, where everything was ordered and where there was no room for doubt. As he opened the bedroom door, his youngest brother was coming out of his own room and ran to hug him.

"Cassie!"  Samandriel, a skinny twelve-year-old boy was gentle and loving, and Castiel hugged him tightly. If all his brothers were like this... But no. He shouldn’t criticize his family. He had come here for help, he should be thankful. "Will you stay with us for a while?"

"A few days, Sammy. I missed you all. "

"Mother will be very happy!"

Castiel wasn’t so sure about that. When he told her what had happened, she wouldn’t be pleased. But he hoped she could shed some light in the darkness he was in.

The boy took one of his suitcases and helped him. The white furniture and the ethereal curtains... It was as if he were in Heaven. He felt that he had strayed from all this, but that there was a possibility of returning to the right path, the one his family had planned for him.

When his mother arrived and knew he was home, he immediately went up to see him. His frown reflected her concern.

"Castiel..." She called her son who was sitting next to the window, a bible open on his knees.

"Mother..." he said quietly as he walked toward her. The smile on his face, however, paled at the sight of his mother's serious face, standing at the door. He had thought to hugging her, but her rigid posture told him she wouldn’t let him.

"I hope there's a fair reason to be here in the middle of the semester."

"There is, Mother. I need to... talk to Father about... some of the difficulties I'm going through. "

"Your father is away, his return will occur only at the beginning of the month. I think you should be back to university by then. We don’t tolerate this kind of lenient behavior, remember? So your talk will have to be with me or with Michael. "

"Yes, I understand. I'd rather talk to you, Mother. I know you will guide me in the right way. "

"We'll talk after dinner, then."

"After dinner."

That night, Castiel sat down next to his mother in the library. She kept her posture serious, openly disapproving of the presence of the son who should be devoting himself to studies at that time.

Castiel, ever since he arrived, had felt alienated in that house. He understood what was expected of him. He should be strong and determined, not a scared boy who ran back home when he found trouble. His faith should be his rock, and he should lean upon it to make every decision.

He didn’t know how to approach the problem, now that he was face to face with his mother. He was afraid to shock her with what he had to say. But he knew that his resistance to what had happened would be a factor in his favor.

"Well, Castiel, I'm waiting. What is so serious that made you do this long journey with no warning at such an inopportune moment? "

"I found myself facing a big problem, Mother. I was able to control myself, leaning on our faith, but... "

"Problem? What kind of problem?"

"As you know, I share a room with another young man. I told you about him during my summer visit, remember? "

"Vaguely... Continue."

"He is a studious and dedicated man, he helps his younger brother... even if he’s not... religious like us."

"I think you could have found someone with whom you had more in common, Castiel."

"I mean to do that, Mother, because the problem... was with Dean."

"What kind of problem?" She said, her piercing gaze peering at his son's frightened face. It was very difficult for him to admit it.

"Well... he's always been good company. He took care of me when I had pneumonia a few days ago... " He stopped, thinking he wanted his mother to see Dean as a good person, despite the flaw he would report next. He owed him that. As the austere-looking lady made no mention of asking him about his health, as he would have expected from a concerned mother, he continued:

"But... a few days later... he... he..."

"He what, Castiel?" She asked impatiently.

"He... kissed me, Mother" he replied, his voice unsteady.

"What? A boy... a man kissed you? " His mother's eyes seemed ready to jump out of their sockets. " And you haven’t made a complaint to the campus authorities? To the police?"

"It wasn’t like that, Mother..."

"And how could such sinful behavior be right? How could it not be contrary to divine law? How could it not be completely wrong? This man is a sinner, Castiel!"

"He didn’t use force or anything... he just... kissed me."

The woman's face told him what she thought:

"There is no forgiveness for what he did, Castiel! He is destined to the depths of Hell, just by thinking of kissing another man, let alone whether he has actually gone down that path. What I want to know, my son, is what _you_ did when he had this sinful attitude. "

"I... pushed him away... I resisted with all my might and I... pulled away. I went back to the apartment when he was gone and got my things. I don’t intend to go back there, nor continue my friendship with Dean and Charlie. "

"Charlie? Another degenerate man? Does he know about this ... Dean's behavior and approve it? "

"Charlie's a girl, Mother. But she doesn’t disapprove ... " he began to say and regretted, stopping as he remembered the warm and gentle presence of the young redhead who had been such a dear friend.

"What? Does she not disapprove? It must be another person set apart from religion, from the path of righteousness. She isn’t a good friend for you."

"I know that now, Mother." Cas mumbled.

"Well, this is a serious problem, I see. I would, however, like to know why you had to travel here to talk to us, when the solution to this case is quite simple. Your family values and religious education should be sufficient to keep you from the infamous person and for you to continue on the path of virtue. What are you doing here, Castiel? "

"I... I... needed... support and... I needed a few days to strengthen my faith with you..."

"Strengthen your faith? Is your faith weakening, Castiel? Is that what you told me? That you are weak? Thank Heaven that your father is not here to witness this... "

Castiel lowered his eyes, struggling to control the urge to cry. His mother acted as if he didn’t deserve forgiveness, as if he were a sinner without any possibility of redemption.

Watching his son shaken emotional state, Naomi raised her eyebrows, as if she had finally realized something. Something that was left unsaid:

"Castiel... Tell me the truth, for I perceive that something remains untold. You let yourself be shaken by a serious matter, I agree, but it would be easy to resolve if you relied solely on our faith. "

"There is... nothing else to be told, Mother. I already... told you everything, "he said, turning pale. How could she know that he had given himself at first, that he had liked what had happened, that he... had harbored inadequate feelings for his roommate? Was he so transparent?

"Castiel! You... you fell too low! You... I can’t even say what you are! You allowed him to kiss you! So from what I perceive you probably encouraged him to do it! Living with that repulsive sinner made you... desire him also in this abject way! I see it in your eyes! I see it! " The woman now raised her voice as Cas had never seen her do it before.

Castiel scooting back along the couch, wanting to get away from the fury pouring from his mother's lips. He reached for his other, trying to placate her wrath, but before he could say anything, the door opened and Michael stepped inside.

"Mother, what's going on?" He said, casting a contemptuous glance at his brother, whom he had always considered inferior.

"Your brother, Michael, has come to tell us that he is a sinner! He came to seek forgiveness for a mortal sin! He came for comfort that he doesn’t deserve! Oh, how happy I am that your father is not here to hear this firsthand... " She stopped, because she could not say what she wanted, seeing Samandriel standing at the door. The boy was innocent and shouldn’t be tainted by this perversion. She turned to take her youngest son away, who was looking at them with frightened eyes.

Michael turned to his brother, a sadistic smile playing on his lips:

"Must I believe that the perfect Castiel has finally proved a failure? For Mother to have yelled at you, what can it be? "He thought for a second and then exclaimed, seeing that door had closed and that Naomi and Samandriel were no longer there:" Sodomite!"

Castiel got up, trying to get past his brother and into his room. Michael grabbed his arm, trying to avoid it. He needed to hear what Michael had to say:

"Go away, Castiel. You no longer belong to this family. Get your things and get out of here. Don’t you dare speak to Sammy, you must not defile him with your sin. "

"You don’t make the rules in this house, Michael!" Castiel tried to resist.

"The stupidity I see in you is complete! Didn’t you see my mother's reaction to knowing you're a sodomite? She can’t stand your presence anymore. And in the absence of our father, I am the authority here. I'm telling you to get your things and leave. I always knew that someday you would follow in Gabriel's footsteps... Sinner! Get out of here! "

 _Gabriel_ , he thought bleakly. If only he could find Gabriel. He would help, even if Castiel were... what he was. He couldn’t repeat that horrible word his brother had used to call him.

Sitting at the bus station, his suitcases at his feet, he contemplated his misfortune. He was alone. He had no family, no friends. His studies would probably be lost, too, now that he had been cut off from the family bonds that paid his tuition.

The urge to talk to Dean, to apologize for all he had said, was overwhelming. But now he knew what it was like to be on the offended side, trampled by hard words. His friend wouldn’t forgive him, he was sure, when those of his own blood had abandoned him. Castiel simply was not deserving.

He decided not to return to South Dakota anymore. There was nothing for him there.

He was alone now. He needed to learn to live by himself. It was time to grow up.

At that moment, however, he decreed the end of his connection with religion as he had known it until then.

Not because he was a sinner. Just because he couldn't believe in a God who wasn't a loving Father, wholove his children regardless of what they felt. He could not admit a religion where there was no forgiveness.


	12. The years belie...

 

Dean woke with an annoying sound. Someone was ringing the bell insistently. His head felt like it was made of lead, and his eyes could only withstand the brightness of the room.

He took a step toward the door and cursed whoever was there on a Saturday morning.

Through the peephole, he could see that it was none other than his brother. His expression, of course, was one of concern. _Why couldn’t he have a break?_

He opened the door, aware that he would get scolded for getting drunk, and for giving Castiel no chance. But he was prepared. He would keep his mouth shut and pretend to listen. Sammy always had something to say and to talk back would only make him stay there longer. He needed to be alone, relax, maybe refill the stock of alcoholic 'company'. Jack Daniels _was_ his best friend, after all.

Sam looked up at him from top to bottom. It was clear that he had gotten drunk and slept on the living room, for he was disheveled and wrapped up in the blanket which was usually on the back of the couch. And apparently he was wearing nothing more than that.

Dean turned his back on him and headed for the kitchen without a word. Sam followed, strangely silent.

The process of turning on the coffeemaker gave Dean a few moments to look busy and stand with his back to the intruder. But soon the throbbing in his temples made him go looking for a painkiller in the drawer on which Sam was leaning. _He is Machiavellian_ , the man with a hangover thought.

"Is there any problem, Dean?"

"Get your ass out of the way, Sam... Don’t you have anywhere else to be?"

"I’ll do it, as soon as you tell me why you did it. Again."

"What did I do? Which of the detestable things I always do is bothering you this time? "

"Woah, _this_ is my brother. I was wondering where you hid have it. Don’t play dumb, Dean. What is so terrible that justifies the heavy drinking? "

"Look, Sam, I'm an adult and I can drink whenever I want. If you were less annoying, I would have invited you to accompany me, but ... Could you let me get the aspirin, please, bitch? "

Finally moving to the side, Sam opened the drawer, with a slight bow.

Dean swallowed a couple of pills before turning back to his brother, who was still standing in his kitchen.

"Dude, at least take a sit if you're going to keep talking..."

Sam sighed, but said nothing. _Well_ , Dean thought, _he gave up_.

"Dean ..." Sam began, his face serious.

 _And I was wrong, dammit!_ Before the other man opened his mouth and shared all the reasons why Dean was an idiot, he decided to cut it:

"Sam, go home. Madison must be missing you. Go, go back to the generous woman who said 'yes' to you and let me enjoy my day off. Oh, tell her, please, thank you, but I'm not very keen and that tomorrow I will not be able to attend the charity lunch you organize for me every Sunday. I'll be busy doing what I want, when I want, since I don’t have anyone to control me. "

"Wow! What a demonstration of maturity, Dean! Don’t you ever ask yourself why there aren’t so many people who want to be around you on a more permanent basis? "

"Well, I know you think you have this obligation, but I am releaving you from this trouble from now on."

Sam, finally looking hurt, turned to leave.

Dean closed his eyes, torn between relief and guilt. Why did it always have to be this way?

The guilty part of his mind was stronger and he found himself apologizing to the brother who was coming to the door.

"Sam, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. But you have to realize that I don’t need you to take care of me."

"I know, Dean, that you're a tough, independent guy who doesn’t need anyone. But did you stop to think, for just a second, that someone might need you? Your company? "

Dean was quiet for a moment, thinking how things had gotten to that point.

"No one needs me, Sam. That is the question."

"Has it ever occurred to you... that Madison and I have invited you so many times for lunch because we love you? Because you are really a good company when you're not being an asshole? That we also have problems and that you, simply by being there, help us? "

"Do you guys have a problem? Why didn’t you say anything? " Dean said, quickly, sinking a little deeper into self-recrimination.

"Yes, Dean, we are human and we have problems. But we choose not to get drunk when it gets tough. "

"Okay, I got the message. Are you going to tell me what's going on? " Dean asked, pulling his brother to sit on the couch.

"This isn’t the time to talk about it, you're not in ..."

"Speak up!"

"Madison and I decided it's time to have a baby, but... she's having trouble conceiving. We need a fertility treatment, which is beyond our means now. "

Dean let that idea into his clouded mind.

"Why didn’t you say anything? I could help."

"The procedure Madison needs is a lot more expensive than you think, Dean. And she would still be spending a few months in New York, away from her work, alone, having to deal with the stress and uncertainty of the outcome. "

"If you had told me before, I would have told you that Charlie is living in New York with her girlfriend and has offered me a place to stay. She can help us, Sam. "

"Thank you for your idea, but there is also the money issue. That's why I was so excited about that Gabriel lawsuit, Dean. "

Leaving aside the mention of Gabriel for the moment, he focused on the main point:

"Please let me help. I have some savings and I'm going to call Charlie. If we still need more money, we’ll think of something, okay? "

Sam's shoulders relaxed perceptibly. He lowered his eyes and smiled sheepishly:

"Do you think that helping us out is going to make me leave you alone about the drinking?"

"No, Sam, I know I'm not that lucky. Come on, let's have some coffee. "

Charlie was thrilled when Dean called. The distance prevented them from seeing each other often, but she didn’t understand why they did not speak more often.

When she learned of Madison's situation, she immediately invited her to stay at his apartment during the  treatment. Her fiancée - they had got engaged the week before - was also a nurse at the hospital where Sam's wife would be treated.

The savings of the two brothers combined plus a second mortgage on Sam’s house would provide the necessary funds.

The only remaining problem was that Sam couldn’t leave at the moment to accompany Madison on the trip. Dean, ignoring his fear of flying, offered to do so.

When he least expected it, his life had taken an unexpected turn, Dean thought as he took 'The Hobbit' extended version box-set to put in the suitcase he was packing. It was a gift to his old friend and confidant.

Looking at the picture on the cover he couldn’t avoid a trip back in time. He remembered an afternoon spent with the people he loved, in the company of other Tolkien’s characters.


	13. ... We lived a lie

 

Madison had been kind enough not to comment on the state of anxiety that gripped his brother-in-law as the plane prepared for takeoff. She knew him too well for that. Instead, she had squeezed his hand tightly, as if she were afraid to fly herself.

The landing was a happy occasion for Dean, the good feeling only obscured by the fact that he would have to do it all again the following week. All by himself.

Charlie welcomed them with open arms. She immediately liked Sam's wife, whom she knew only through the mentions of his old friend.

It was only when Dean came face-to-face with her that he realized how he missed that small woman, with flaming hair and a charming smile, unmatched intelligence and energy, who had supported him when it was necessary. He hugged her tightly, thinking how lucky he was to have met her.

Madison retired early, wanting to talk to Sam before going to sleep. The next day would be full, with a plethora of scheduled exams.

Dean sat in the cozy living room of the little apartment with Charlie, many things to discuss. After the amenities and a few confidences - Dean didn’t know how, but the girl could always get him to tell her what she wanted to know - she approached the subject that he preferred to leave aside.

"I know that many years have passed and that you have moved on, but ... I can’t help thinking that there is a situation of the past that seems... I don’t know, to have remained... unconcluded."

"If you're trying to bring Castiel into this conversation... no. Please, don’t."

"You never allow yourself to talk about him, Dean. It's like the elephant in the middle of the room. "

"I don’t talk about him because I don’t have to. As far as I'm concerned, it's past, it's over. He walked away considering me a pervert. What's there to say, actually? "

"Well, Sam told me about the funeral..."

"That Sasquatch doesn’t learn... He should keep his mouth shut and take care of his own life!"

"He loves you, Dean. Me too. That's why I ask, because I know that story is far from finished for you. "

"It's over for him, Charlie. That's all that matters. The end."

"So ... if there was a chance you'd try again?"

"Yes, of course, because I am a masochist! I'm desperate for someone to call me a sinner, a pervert... I love when people tell me I'm repulsive."

"When you met him at the office, how did he treat you? Did you feel any resentment on his part? "

"Our meeting was forced on both sides. He wasn’t happy, let alone me. We didn’t even talk. "

"Um ... I don’t understand, Dean. He was accompanied by Gabriel. Both at the funeral and at Sam’s office. Don’t you think it's strange? "

"They're brothers, what's so strange?"

"That's right, Dean, let's pretend you haven’t wondered how Gabriel, the brother who walked away from everything because he didn’t agree with his family, found Castiel again. And don’t forget Sam told me that the two of them didn’t mingle with the rest of their family in the funeral service. "

Dean rested his forehead on his hands, closing his eyes.

"Charlie, you're like a sister to me ... why don’t you realize that this subject is very ... uncomfortable? I don’t want to remember how traumatic it was to be rejected by the first guy I liked. You, of all people, have been there and seen how I felt. Why would I want to mess with this again? I'm happy like this, I do what I want. I live one day at a time and it's great. "

"If it's good why is Sam so concerned? Why do I see sadness in your eyes? "

"Is it too much to ask you to change the subject?" He answered with another question, actively diverting the conversation. He got up and went to the room to get the gift he had brought.

Charlie's reaction had been as expected, he had been kissed and hugged profusely and when Gilda arrived from the hospital, late that night she found the two friends sleeping on the couch while Thorin and Bilbo fought Smaug on the TV screen.

Dean's job was to accompany Madison to the exams and be the support that was expected from a brother. He was with her on the first day, only to be dismissed by the nurses. He could only stay if he was the husband. Madison had touched his arm and said that everything was fine despite the insecure look she had given him.

He left the hospital and found himself alone on the island of Manhattan for the first time in his life and not sure what he would do.

He decided to buy a local guide at a newsstand. The list of attractions in that gigantic city was impressive and he decided to visit Central Park. He searched for a subway station and within minutes was wandering through the trees, enjoying the sunny morning.

At night, as the four of them gathered around the dinner table, Madison shared with the others what had happened in the clinic. The doctors had said the odds were good, even though she had to stay there for at least a month and a half. Her anxiety had diminished noticeably.

Dean told of his wanderings around the city, excited by the beauty and diversity of the metropolis. It was unbelievably different from Los Angeles. Charlie suggested that he visit the Empire State Building and two comic book stores nearby, since Dean, like Charlie, still cultivated his old love for comics.

The next morning, Madison said she could go to the hospital by herself, but Dean said that by the time she was in New York he would accompany her in the morning. It was a way to be present for Sam. She had kissed him on the cheek and grabbed his arm outside the apartment.

Dean planned to take her there  and then take the tour suggested by his friend. She had written down the subway lines and he felt more confident.

Madison and Dean, still arm in arm, entered the clinic and waited for the proceedings to begin. Like the day before, he was dismissed and he was ready for the adventures that awaited him that day.

Leaving the elevator, he entered the spacious lobby of the building, crowded with a multitude of doctors, nurses, and patients, walking in different directions, in a rhythm that matched the bustling city outside.

As he approached the double doors leading to the street, he had to stop and wait for some people in wheelchairs to enter. When he finally moved to the exit, he collided lightly with a person, who was struggling with a cane.

When he turned to apologize, he was momentarily speechless when he found that he was nothing less than an old friend from college.

That one friend.

The one who could still make his heart stop for a moment.

When words died in his throat, the other man took upon himself the task of basic communication:

"Hello, Dean."

Realizing they were blocking the passage, the two walked out, Castiel taking the lead on Dean's offer.

He was tempted to wave casually and move quickly in the opposite direction Castiel seemed to want to take. But the subway station, unfortunately, wasn’t in that direction, he told himself. The embarrassment was complete on his part, but he insisted on showing some civility.

"Good morning, Castiel," he said, using his full name, as he had done at first, when friendship hadn’t yet blossomed.

"It's a surprise meeting you here. I hope there's no problem with your health. "

"No, no, I'm just accompanying Sammy's wife, who's doing some tests. But it's nothing serious either. Fertility treatment. "

"I'm glad to know."

Dean, increasingly annoyed, realized that he owed Cas the same courtesy:

"And what about you?"

"Oh, I came to get the results of some exams. I had surgery on my leg, but it's okay. "

"Good."

"Dean, I know... we haven’t spoken in years, but... I’m sorry if I make you feel uncomfortable..."

"Uncomfortable? No... " He heard himself cutting off Castiel's speech, and internally kicked himself for his lack of control.

"Well, if that's so... Would you like to join me? I haven’t had breakfast yet... "

"I have some plans, but ... okay," he said, half-heartedly. There was a fierce battle in his mind: part of his conscience ordered him to move away from Castiel as fast as he could, while he could. The other half was completely distracted by those deep blue eyes.

Castiel suggested a quiet establishment he knew about two blocks away. Dean thought of how he would survive it if he had to follow the pace of the other man, who walked slowly with the cane.

The first few minutes were spent in an uneasy silence. Dean, even if he wanted to keep the conversation to a minimum, eventually started the conversation:

"Your leg is okay, then? The cane... "

"Temporary. I'm doing physiotherapy and I'm going to intensify the treatment. I intend to run again. "

"You’re still running, then?"

"Yes, my body is accustomed to the rhythm, I miss it a lot."

"Hmmm." That was the only reply he could utter.

"Have you been to New York before?" The dark-haired man asked.

"It is my first time. I'm still kind of confused with such excitement. "

"It's very different from Los Angeles. When I moved there, having lived here, I felt a little trouble adjusting. "

"You... lived here?" Curiosity was too great and almost uncontrollable.

"Oh, it's here, Dean," Castiel said, pointing to the sign near the curb.

Dean held the door for the other man to enter, and they walked to a table, sitting face to face, in a familiar and strange proximity.

"You were asking..." Castiel resumed, after having made the requests "... if I had lived here. Yes, I lived about a year and a half, but I didn’t have the possibilities I have today. Despite the difficulties, I remember that time with a certain nostalgia. "

Dean didn’t know how to continue that conversation. He wanted to ask Cas when it had been and what the difficulties had been, but this time he was able to shut up.

"And you, Dean, when you moved to Los Angeles?"

"After finishing college..." his voice was suddenly unsteady as he uttered the word "... I returned to Sioux Falls. When it was Sam's turn to go to college, he chose Stanford. We've been living in California since that time. We moved to Los Angeles when I got a better job and Sam set up a law firm with two partners. "

It was Castiel's turn to look confused at the possibilities of this conversation, for he was suddenly too interested on his pancakes.

Leaving aside the precautions, Dean asked, after all, what he wanted to know:

"And you? Where is your church? "

"Church?" Castiel looked really puzzled.

"The one where, I suppose, you are a minister. In which Los Angeles area is it? "

Castiel lowered his head, trying to hide a small smile.

"Is that what you think I do? That am I a minister? "

"Yes... as far as I remember... that's what you wanted to do..." he said, slightly annoyed at Castiel's amused tone.

"No, Dean, I'm not a minister. I am an English Literature professor at UCLA."


	14. They said we made a perfect pair

The news that Castiel had not devoted himself to a religious life had struck Dean as an almost physical blow. He must have showed the surprise in his face, since Castiel asked, after a few moments:

"Dean?"

"Oh, sorry. It's just that the idea of you working on something else... surprised me. "

"I discovered eventually… that path was not for me. Literature has always fascinated me and the possibility of teaching is very gratifying. "

Dean noticed he didn’t elaborate spontaneously on the motives that had made him give up that career, the one had seemed the only one for him. It was enough indication to Dean that he shouldn’t ask about it.

As they finished their meal, Castiel asked if Dean had visited some of the city's famous places, to which he replied that he had gone to Central Park the day before, and that day he would visit the Empire State Building at Charlie's suggestion.

"Charlie? She..."

Dean was sorry for not having spoken about their common friend before and interrupted him:

"She lives here. We're staying at her apartment. Well, hers and her fiancée’s. "

"Charlie is engaged?" He asked, the joy visible in his features.

"Yes, Gilda works as a nurse at the hospital where we met."

The smile he saw on the old friend's face warmed him inside. It was a living memory of the time they shared the little joys of everyday life.

He could suggest a meeting of the three, but he wasn’t ready for that. Being there, for a quick conversation, he could take it, but not much else. In a few minutes he would apologize and leave.

But Castiel was faster, asking for the bill, which they paid separately. As they stepped onto the sidewalk, Dean offered,

"Do you need a cab or something?"

"Thank you, Dean, a cab would be great. Gabriel's apartment is on the Upper East Side and the subway is not an option for me at the moment. "

Dean might not know the city well, but he knew that this was a noble area, where the most expensive and luxurious apartments were.

When one of the cars stopped, after a few unsuccessful attempts, Castiel held out his hand.

"Thank you, Dean, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"Me too, Castiel." But before the car pulled away, he remembered,

"Oh, I almost forgot... I'm sorry for your brother. "

"Thank you, Dean. I just have to thank you for coming to the funeral home to pay your respects. It was a moving gesture on your part. "

And before he could say anything else, the yellow car had already left.

Dean kept thinking about those words for the rest of the day. _Castiel knew that he had come to the funeral_. He had been discreet and the other man hadn’t seen him. There was only one possibility.

"Dean? Is there a problem with Madison? "Sam asked on the phone, his voice anguished.

"No, Sam, she’s fine, I left her at the hospital. I wanted to ask you how Castiel Novak knows we were at the funeral. "

"He knows? And how do you know he knows? "

"That's not the point, what I want to know is what you did when you said you were going to the bathroom ..."

"Well, I really went to the bathroom. Then I thought I should sign the condolences book... and so, casually, I said hi to Cas. I thought he hadn’t recognized me... "

"I knew I couldn’t trust you ..." he muttered, thinking he understood now that story of suing the auto company. That triggered an alarm inside him: "Wait, wait ... What do you have to do with my seemingly casual encounter with Castiel here in Manhattan?"

"I…  nothing... I think. I may have said something to Gabriel about you accompanying Madison to New York..."

"Gabriel? Are you into this with him? "Dean was ready to burst, but he tried to calm down so he could ask something else that bothered him:

"Does Castiel know of your meddling?"

"From what I know, Dean... I don’t think so."

"I just wanted to know what I did to deserve this. Well, thank you for ruining my day, asshole. " He said, hanging up.

Gabriel and Sam were conspiring to reunite Cas and Dean. Great, that was all he needed. His bad mood ruined his day and he returned to Charlie's with a headache.

He entered the empty apartment and went to bed. He woke up when it was dark and there were voices and laughter coming from the living room. Madison and Gilda should have arrived by now.

Dean came into the room to find them, still feeling shaken by the events of the day. When Madison asked what was wrong, he replied,

"Are you sure you don’t know?"

She frowned and shook her head.

"Well, I met Castiel today, just outside the hospital."

Charlie almost jumped off the couch when he heard the news:

"Cas? How is he? Still dreamy? Have you talked? "

Ignoring the barrage of questions, Dean replied,

"We had breakfast... He's in town for a doctor’s appointment. Isn’t it interesting how we casually met here? Of all places, in years living in LA we never cross paths and... "

"It must be fate..." Gilda suggested.

"I'd rather believe in Sam and Gabriel in collusion. Maybe Castiel too... "

Charlie's eyes widened and she smiled.

"Ah, Dean... They just want to help. Wasn’t it good talking to him? "

"I don’t need help for something I've never looked for, Charlie."

"But now that it has happened... The worst is over. Next time it will be easier, you'll see. "

"There won’t be any next time," Dean said, pouting.

The next day Dean refused to go anywhere but the hospital. He was tired and being alone was not much fun, he had said, intending to hurry back home.

When he arrived, he found the apartment empty again. He lay down to watch TV and then got bored. It would be many hours before the women returned.

Contrary to what he had said, he left the apartment for a little while but only to do some shopping in the corner shop. Cooking always helped him relax.

He ate a sandwich for lunch and took a nap. He woke up in the late afternoon and began cooking dinner. While he was making the dough for an apple pie, he heard the doorbell. He wondered if he should open, but it could be something important.

When he opened the door he found Castiel.

"Hello, Dean."

"Castiel... hi... ah..."

"Charlie found me and invited me to dinner... I think I arrived early... But she said at six..." Cas said, looking around and noticing the empty room.

Dean closed his eyes. The conspiracy now had the help of their redhead friend.

"Well, they only arrive after seven-thirty ..."

"I don’t want to bother you… so I'll come back later."

Dean, however, saw the opportunity for what it was. They should talk, he finally accepted the fact. And they would be alone for over an hour. If everyone wanted it, he would give it to them. But he didn’t think it would change anything. At least he would try, if that was why they all recriminated him. He was going to show them.

"No, no, come on in... Sit down. Just excuse me… I'm cooking dinner. "

"Do you cook?"

"When I have the chance. Excuse-"

"Would you mind if... I accompanied you? I would like to help."

"Do you cook?" Dean returned the question.

"No, but... I don't know... I could peel something..."

Dean smiled and motioned for the other to follow him.

The kitchen was starting to smell good, a roast in the oven. In just over an hour, the pie would replace it.

He offered Castiel a chair and gave him half a dozen apples to peel. He, in turn, mixed the ingredients of the dough into a bowl.

Castiel set his cane against the wall, washed his hands in the sink, and sat down to devote himself to the task that had been appointed to him.

Dean sprinkled some flour on the tabletop and started rolling the dough. Castiel was focused in his task , but eventually he looked up to see his old friend work.

Dean did things with agility. He looked practiced. In a few minutes the tin was greased, floured and lined with the dough. When he was going to ask Castiel for the apples, he had to laugh. He was still halfway through the first.

"I thought you knew how to peel..."

"Sorry, I got distracted..." The words were accompanied by a slight blush.

"Pass me one of those and I'll help." After sliced and mixed with the condiments, Dean put the apples into the mould and covered it with another layer of dough, balancing the thin crust on the roll. He might be showing off a little, but he wasn’t going to miss the opportunity. Castiel kept looking, amused.

He cut the excess all the way around and, with his nimble fingers, closed the pie, decorating it a sinuous detail around the border. He brushed the surface with an egg wash, made some cuts on the top and set the unfinished dessert on the counter, waiting for its moment to be baked.

For a moment the silence reigned between them.

"Well, I guess we can go sit down in the living room now... The roast is going to take some time to get ready."

Castiel nodded and left the kitchen, limping, his cane forgotten in a corner.

"Cas ..." Dean called, realizing that he had called him by his old nickname. "... your cane," he said, offering it to the other man.

They settled in the armchairs, unconsciously putting a reasonable space between them.

"Do you always come to New York for exams?"

"Yes, I had surgery here two weeks after the accident. This was my last appointment. I'm ready for physical therapy. "

"And Gabriel... always lets you stay in his apartment. We both have generous brothers, don’t you think? We're lucky."

"Yes, Gabriel himself called the physician, who is his friend to reschedule the appointment, since he knew I was anxious to get back to training."

And there was the answer Dean was looking for. Sam said Dean was going to New York and Gabriel made sure he was there around the same time. After all, sitting in that room with Castiel wasn’t so bad. Not when he forgot everything he had told him and watched him as he was now. He looked stronger and had grown an inch or two. His face was more mature and his eyes ... Dean couldn’t help it - the attraction still existed.

"I'm curious... what does Gabriel do to have an apartment on the Upper East Side?"

"He's a TV producer. Comedy series, for the most part. " He replied with a smile. "’Nutcracker’ was one of his biggest hits."

"He produced 'Nutcracker'? I understand the luxury apartment now. "

"And the jet. And the house in Malibu. But he is the same rascal as he was as a kid. "

Dean laughed, remembering, against his will, when he'd used that expression for the first time. So much time had passed and after all, there they were again.

"Dean, I... I know I owe you an apology."

That phrase had come so unexpectedly that Dean took a few seconds to get over the surprise. What could he say?

"Cas..." he mumbled, shaking his head lightly "... don’t…"

"No, I was extremely rude to you. He said very offensive things. I've always regretted it. Please forgive me. I haven’t say anything of that with real intent. "

"There's no need for that, Cas. It’s the past. " He answered out of courtesy since the things Cas said that night still hurt him, even if he wouldn’t admit it to the man in front of him. He seemed very contrite in his request.

"I never thought it would be possible, but since we're here..." Castiel said with sad eyes.

"Please ... I haven’t thought about this for years ..." He lied. He cleared his throat and said he had to check the roast. He had to get out of there. He needed to breathe. He had never imagined he'd heard an apology for what had happened.

Entering in the kitchen, he leaned on the counter with both hands, his head hanging forward as he took a deep breath.

He bent and opened the oven, pulling the roast out. To say that he was aware of something more than Castiel in the next room would be an exaggeration. He put it back and sighed, taking another deep breath.

Turning, he found Castiel standing at the door. He walked, as determined as he could toward the living room, but his shoulders were hold and he found himself pushed against the door jamb as Castiel's mouth found his.

Castiel couldn’t be more straightforward than that.


	15. I clothed myself In your glory and you love

Dean had wanted that for a very long time not to get into the mood quickly. As Castiel's hands rose to touch his face, Dean's hands came down to grip the other man's hips.

What began slow and sensual, soon became a passionate kiss, made of tongues and teeth, expressing a deep desire, denied for too long. They were no longer teenagers, but the excitement would soon become obvious if they kept kissing like that.

That's when they heard the front door lock click and the two parted at record speed. Leaning for a second on opposite sides of the kitchen door frame, their eyes fluttering in agitation, they tried to catch their breath before finding out who was coming. Dean was faster and walked to the sink to wash his hands and then pretended to look for something in a drawer.

Castiel could only rub a hand over his mouth and take a deep breath as he headed back to the chair he had occupied earlier. Not an easy task, when there was a thigh injury and he didn’t have his cane.

"Cas!" Cried Charlie, as she hurried to embrace her old friend. Dean appeared at the door, wiping his hands on a plaid kitchen cloth, trying to look busy. Gilda looked at him and at the couple hugging in the middle of the room. Dean feared that she might be suspicious of something, but there was nothing to be done.

"Something smells good here ..." the young woman said, going to meet Dean where he was.

"I was bored and decided to cook something for dinner. I hope you don’t mind. "

"You made dinner?" Charlie exclaimed, excited. "And I'd told Cas that we'd order pizza ... You deserve a kiss!"

She wrapped her arms around Dean’s neck and gave him a light kiss on the cheek, only to pull away with a suspicious look. She approached again, pretending that she would kiss the other cheek, just so she could sniff near his ear. When she walked away, she was smiling.

Dean, on the pretext of finally taking the roast out of the oven and putting the pie in its place, left the scene, aware that Charlie knew. Charlie always knew!

As Gilda set the table, Cas and Charlie chattered in the living room. Soon after, it was Madison's turn to arrive and be introduced to his brother-in-law's old friend.

Why did Dean think she knew about the kiss too?

Dinner was savored amid the conversation and laughter, the joy of being gathered there perfectly perceptible. Only Dean abstained from participating more actively, under the guise of having obligations in the kitchen. As he sat at the table, he tried to keep his eyes away from Cas's, even though Charlie tried several ways to get them into the same conversation.

Madison and Gilda took on the task of doing the dishes, leaving the three old friends to sit together in the living room and continue to reminisce.

They talked about books and movies, video games and comics. Castiel had delved into all that, too, over the years, and now he was able to understand the references that had seemed obscure to him before. Dean was lost in the contemplation of his face, once commonly serious, while he was passionately talking about Battlestar Galactica and Stargate. He had matured well, he thought. Sensuality exuded from his slender figure, which hid the hard musculature he had just felt.

Very early, and yet quite late, if they took into account that it was weekday, Castiel stood up, taking the cane. He would go home in the morning in Gabriel's private jet. He had urgent appointments at the University.

"Charlie, I have to thank you for this wonderful evening. It's something I dreamed about for a long time, " he said as he wrapped the little woman in his arms affectionately.

"Let's keep in touch, huh? I can’t lose you again, Cas. "

"You're not." He turned to the other two young women, gently, "Gilda, it was a pleasure. Madison, I'm very happy to meet you, Sam is a lucky man. "

Before he could say goodbye to Dean, he took Castiel's jacket from the back of the sofa and said he was going to walk him out into the street and get him a cab back to his brother's apartment.

They walked to the elevator in silence, the air palpable between them. Dean opened the door to the building and held it for his old friend, looking around for a cab. After a few minutes and a few requests from Castiel for Dean to return to the apartment because it was cold out there, a vehicle finally stopped.

The back door opened and Castiel settled down with a little difficulty on the seat. Before Dean could closed it, the blue-eyed man rested his hand on Dean’s and whispered,

"Come with me?"

Dean didn’t think twice about getting into the cab, heading for the elegant neighborhood. Against all that he had thought so far, the plea of being near Castiel had made him throw himself into something without regard to the consequences. But his eyes couldn’t leave their hands still joined on the seat.

They got out of the car and entered the building. A doorman in an imposing uniform held the door for them, greeting Castiel formally.

Dean wanted to look around, see how a millionaire from the entertainment industry lived, but his eyes were drawn inexorably to the man walking beside him.

When they left the huge elevator, they no longer restrained themselves, hugging in the middle of the atrium, kissing again.

Inside the apartment, the so long repressed desire, the two handsome men began to undress each other.

Castiel pushed Dean against a wall, sucking a mark on his neck. The excitement had reached another excruciating level, and the freckled man rubbed his erection against his partner's.

When Castiel raised his head and looked into his eyes, Dean could no longer contain himself, pulling him toward the expensive couch in the living room. He didn’t doubt that Castiel wanted that, but the ingrained fear made him whisper against his ear as he lay on top of his old friend on the soft white leather surface:

"Cas... are... are you sure?"

"I want you, Dean ... Like I've never wanted anyone else."

Those words incited a new wave of desire and Dean slid across the couch to kiss Castiel's chest. The rigid, muscular lines of the body beneath his made him wild. Dean let his lips slide lower and lower until they were wrapping around Castiel's cock, prompting a hoarse gasp.

Feeling overwhelmed by the smell and taste of the man he'd been wanting for more than a decade, he tried to ignore how the fulfillment of this dream made him yearn for another: that Castiel would reciprocate the love that almost suffocated him.

But the urgency of what they did pushed that eagerness away as Castiel pulled Dean into another kiss, clearly trying to keep it from ending too soon. He rolled them around and Dean received him between his legs, in an explicit invitation.

His blue eyes ran down the freckled body, staring for a moment at the place where Dean began to touch himself unashamedly.

Castiel stood up abruptly, leaving Dean a little concerned. Was he reconsidering?

"I'll get ... what we need ..."

Dean finally allowed himself to exhale, looking at the athletic body that was walking away as fast as Cas could.

In less than a minute Castiel was back, a bottle of lube and a condom in his hands. The light-haired man unceremoniously took the bottle and poured its contents generously into his own fingers, starting to touching himself again.

Cas's fingers joined Dean's, in a decidedly erotic way. They huddled in the tight heat and Dean closed his eyes and let the other man to finish the task, ready to burst if it didn’t happen soon enough.

The sound of the packaging being opened told him that it wouldn’t be long now. He watched as the condom was rolled over Cas’s impressive member, and when his hand, smeared with lube, stroked it one last time.

He only breathed again when he felt Castiel's thighs against the back of his own, the blue eyes on him. The hesitation ended when Dean moved his hips, demonstrating what he wanted and how he wanted it.

For a second Dean thought he saw a hint of sadness on Cas’s angular face, a nostalgia for everything they had lived together. But the impetuosity with which Castiel threw himself into the moment dispelled any rational thought in Dean's mind.

Moving in synchrony, as if they had been made to share that moment, the pleasure grew until it was no longer possible control themselves.

Sweaty, exhausted, they rested against each other.

Almost nothing had been said since they had left Charlie's apartment, both fearing that words could break the perfect moment they had experienced.

Dean brushed a damp lock of hair from Castiel's forehead with a tender smile. He offered him a soft kiss and pressed his body to his chest. He savored every gesture, knowing that all that would soon be part of the past. The attraction was undeniable, but neither of them mentioned anything else. He knew now what he had to do.

When Cas fell asleep, he cautiously disentangled himself, got dressed and left, casting a long look at the sleeping man, already wistful of what they had just shared.


	16. I still believe the lie

Sam looked at the phone, to the name of the person calling:

"Hi, Gabriel, what can I do for you today?"

"Sammy boy, we need to talk. Could we meet tonight? Our plans had a worse outcome than we imagined. "

"What do you mean by that? From what I know they have met and with Charlie's help... "

"It’s urgent, Sammy, urgent! Tonight. Same place. At eight."

The bar was crowded at that hour. If it had been for Sam, they would have chosen a quieter place, but since it was Gabriel, he had to put up with the crowd.

The waiter led him into the private room of the successful TV producer.

Sam immediately felt something was wrong.

Without preamble or amenities, Gabe asked:

"Same as always?" When Sam agreed, he signed the waiter. The door was closed and Gabriel leaned toward Sam.

"Our plan failed. Spectacularly. "

"Is Cas already back? Dean will be back in two days. Charlie and Dean are going to a comics convention. "

"Yes, he’s back but he’s definitely not okay. I'm afraid they... They had sex, Sam."

"Did they? But... Dean didn’t tell me anything and he doesn’t have that kind of modesty, believe me. I know a lot more about his sex life than I would like... He always tells me everything. In detail. "

"Well, I didn’t learn from Cas. He is quiet, but my cleaning lady from New York called today that I need to hire a special service to clean my couch. "

"Why?"

"Someone had sex on the couch, and quite enthusiastically, it seems. The signs were all there, from traces of body fluids, one or two shirt buttons lost to a piece of condom wrap between the cushions. They definitely had sex... on my precious couch! Ugh! "

"But wasn’t that what we wanted? We got it, then. "

"We failed it extraordinarily, Sam. They fucked, but nothing else happened. The doorman told me that the two arrived together, but that Dean left not long after. Our dream of seeing them together, cuddling in bed, happily ever after, failed. "

"I don’t need this mental image, thank you," he said, shivering. "Do you think they fought again?"

"Most likely. They are too stubborn. But Cas is closed like an oyster. He's almost ripping off his pupils heads, so I've been told. That's no good. He is normally  a quite agreeable person."

"Charlie didn’t tell me anything ... I think for all her perception, it went unnoticed." He glanced at his cell phone. "I will call her."

He looked up the young woman's name from the contact list and made the call, which was answered quickly.

"Hi, Charlie ... No, I’ve already talked to her... I wanted to talk to you. Do you know if Dean and Cas... hooked up?"

Gabriel, his brow furrowed, paid attention to the conversation he heard only unilaterally.

"You're sure they kissed before you came in... and they left after... But Dean came back soon ... and you haven’t realize ... What? Dean has been going to bars ... and coming back in the morning? "

Gabe pointed his finger in the direction of the phone and nodded.

"No... I just wanted to know if something else had happened... Anything, please let me know, okay? Bye."

"Dean has apparently decided to go wild again. What happened between him and Cassie ... Something went wrong. But what could have been? "

"Why don’t you ask Castiel directly?"

"He is not alright; my mother and Michael are trying to blame Balthazar's death on him. Then he met Dean in New York and that went wrong somehow. I can’t just ask him. "

"Why are your mother... if I may ask?"

"Balthazar was never happy with Cassie's departure. When he had the chance, he came to seek a  position in LA and was trying, unsuccessfully, to bring Cas back to the old cause. Castiel was very promising when he was young and his loss was a blow to the family. They say it was the main reason for my father's untimely death. If that wasn’t enough, they now want to blame him for our brother's death. I fear for his mental health ... I don’t want to see him again like I found him in New York all those years ago... "

Sam looked down, worried. None of it went as they had planned.

"You know what, Gabe... I think we should stop interfering. I think we made things worse. "

"I don’t usually give up that easily, Sam. I'll just stop when they're at the altar. "

"Forget it, then. Dean doesn’t intend to get married. "

"But it's Cassie's we're talking about! My little brother is totally marriage material! And let's face it, this sexual tension and repressed love reminds me of a romantic movie, one that ends up with a beautiful white wedding. "

Sam finally laughed. He couldn’t imagine that, but he certainly wanted to see his brother happy.

"I’m not asking you to give up. Just give them some time. Maybe they will come to their senses... "

"I'll give them a few months, but if nothing happens... They won’t even know what hit them!"

When Dean finally came back, Sam invited him to dinner at his house. He wanted to know more about Madison's treatment and his psychological state. That was the excuse, he didn’t really need his brother for that, being in daily contact with his wife on the other side of the country.

Seated at the kitchen table, Sam did his best to lead the conversation to Dean and Castiel's meeting in New York. But Dean knew there was a conspiracy there and kept away from any possibility of divulging some personal fact. He wasn’t going to give ammunition to those two jerks.

What had happened had been consensus between two adults. It was memorable, but unlikely to be repeated, if it depended on any of them, Dean thought. He told himself that he had done it to get that fixation out of his system. And he concluded that Castiel had followed the same reasoning, as if it had made them free, finally, to chose other paths.

In Dean's case, however, it had backfired. Instead of marking the end of an era, it had renewed the feeling that had comforted and oppressed him for years, now that he knew the other man had also wanted him. But that wasn’t what Dean wanted. Nor what he needed, he acknowledged. Try as he might, he often wondered what it would be like to live with Cas, sharing his bed and his life with him.

He had lost himself again in this reverie while he washed the dishes, paying little attention to his brother's chatter.

His attention was captured, however, by a small phrase, said in a somber tone:

"... in the streets. For more than a year, Dean. In the streets, can you imagine that? "

Dean found himself torn between curiosity and the desire not to give that satisfaction to his brother. Curiosity was stronger, after all.

"Sorry, I couldn’t hear you with because of the water... What happened on the streets for almost a year?"

"Dean, you're impossible... _Castiel_. Castiel lived more than a year on the streets of New York when his family abandoned him. Gabe told me."

The freckled man opened his mouth slightly, expressing his shock in silence. Cas had told him that he had lived there, but not in that state of penury.

He returned to the task, his heart heavy. He wanted to know more, but he wasn’t going to let Sam tell him Gabriel's version of the facts. But as it was, he might never know the real story.

The time Gabriel had agreed to wait before returning to his plans was almost at the end. Whenever he called Sam to find out about Dean, he reminded him that the deadline was approaching.

That worried Sam, for he knew his brother's stubbornness. Confronted with another attempt at rapprochement by the two, he was sure that Dean would definitely retreat. Charlie agreed with him and said that eventually things would work out for those idiots she loved very much.

Sam couldn’t know that she also had a plan.


	17. I hang my head...

When Dean received, in a text message, a link to a video, he didn't imagine what it would be. Coming from Charlie, some news from the geek world, had been his guess. He was surprised to learn it was a wedding invitation.

At night, when they spoke on the phone, one on each side of the country, he had congratulated her and asked her more about the event that would be her friend's wedding ceremony.

"If I understand correctly, it's going to be a LARPing meeting and your will get married during the event..."

"Yes, as Queen of the Moons it is my prerogative to forge an alliance with a member of one of the other kingdoms. Gilda, being part of the venerable Kingdom of the Elves will join me in marriage, a union beneficial to the two kingdoms. The Shadow Orcs are already preparing to strike if we try to carry our plans forward. The Warriors of Yesteryear are divided between allying themselves to the Orcs or supporting our union. "

"And I must suppose that I will be one of the brave warriors who will defend you, my Queen ..."

"I was thinking you'd be a perfect handmaiden..."

"Handmaiden? Okay, if you think like that, I'll start looking for a dress that fits me... "

"I'm joking, Dean. You will be a warrior, and the most elegant, I am sure. I already ordered your uniform, since you will be my best man also. "

At first Dean didn’t know what to say, touched by the realization of how much he loved that girl. He thanked her for the honor and, asked how many pairs of Orcs' ears were needed to make a necklace worthy of the Queen of the Moons.

Charlie had laughed, and before they finished the call, she hesitated, which was uncommon. She didn’t seem to know how to say what she wanted:

"Dean... I... invited Castiel as well. I hope this... "

"Charlie, no problem... I know how you two enjoyed the reunion. He is your friend and... "

"But don’t worry, during the event he was cast as an Elf warrior. I don’t want either of you to feel embarrassed ... "

"There's no reason to worry. We are two adults and I think I can speak for him when I say that it's all about your happiness. "

"I love you, Dean." It was the answer he got, a lump tightening in his throat.

"I know," Dean said, imagining the smile on the other end of the line. He always used this quote when she told him that, taking advantage of the famous phrase to cover up the fact that the real answer was too difficult for him to enunciate.

Dean had calmed Charlie about Castiel's presence at the wedding, but the truth was he was more than a little bothered about it.

Since their meeting, they had not spoken again. Not that it had cooled Dean's desire or diminished the feeling in his chest. Rare was the day when he didn’t remember the blue eyes or the gentle hands, his small smile or the impetuosity in making love. He had tried to think of it as sex, a way of purging the repressed desire, but he hadn’t been successful. There was, at least for him, a deeper meaning, and he often found himself reminiscing about what they had experienced that night.

Within forty-eight hours they would be face to face at the marriage of their mutual friend. Although he knew they would behave flawlessly during the event, he was afraid to see himself alone with the other. How could he refrain for showing what he felt?

He closed the bag, worried. There was no escape.

Dean, not wanting to disturb the final preparations, had proposed to stay in a hotel, but the brides haven’t wanted to hear any of it. He should stay in their apartment, as usual.

"Do you think I was joking when I called you my handmaiden? Who do you think is going to braid my hair? "

"As you wish, Your Majesty," he replied, entering Charlie's tiny car in their way from the airport.

When he saw the outfit Charlie had gotten for him he couldn’t hide a smile. His nerd side was pleased with the possibility of wearing leather and chainmail and carrying a sword, even if was made of wood.

Gilda and Charlie's last maiden night was spent in the company of Charlie’s oldest friend, amidst memories and confidences. Dean couldn’t remember another time when he had felt as close to someone as to that young woman with vivacious intelligence and generous heart.

At dawn, however, a whirlwind engulfed them, as they prepared to move to the place of marriage. LARPing encounters usually happened outside the city, in a place where the natural environment was most appropriate.

Dean had looked at himself a few times in the mirror, fascinated by his warrior outfit. His buckled leather gauntlets and the chain mail around his shoulders gave him a manly, fearless look, he thought. He tried not to imagine what Castiel would think when he saw him dressed like that.

Charlie wore reddish-brown leather trousers, the same shade of Dean's uniform, red the dominant color in the Followers of the Moon banner. A tight vest over a simple shirt, a wide waistband and high-top boots completed the queen's battle suit, her hair braided over her head like a tiara. The ceremony gown was in a red velvet box with the gold badge on the lid. Under it, tied with a silver ribbon, was a similar box, deep green. It was Gilda's dress.

Gilda, in turn, represented an elven sorceress and was dressed in a rustic green robe, brown trousers and boots, a dark, soft leather bag tied around her waist. Her long hair was tied in a loose braid that fell over one shoulder, finished by a dark green bow. The pointed ears of the members of the Elven Kingdom had been applied over his own, giving her an even more ethereal appearance than she already had.

To store everything in the small car and to settle in as much as possible made Dean feel more than ever the lack of his beloved Impala. The journey, which lasted just over an hour and a half, was tempered by the joy that the three occupants of the small vehicle found in their shared company.

When they arrived, another wave of agitation made them separate. Charlie was surrounded by the counselors and taken to the royal tent. Gilda said goodbye and walked to the Elven camp, which was not far off.

Dean had to look for the Captain of the Guard and report to the service.

At noon, the Queen of the Moons summoned the troops. Beside her the emperor of the Elves, dressed for battle, looked worried.

When Charlie spoke, her voice was deep and her tone serious:

"Brave warriors who revere the Moons. Your bravery in battle will be needed today. Lord Garth has brought news that the Shadow Orcs and their allies, the Warriors of Yesteryear, plan an attack in order to avoid the alliance being forged between our kingdoms. I command you, in the name of all the values we cherish, that you fight bravely! "Her hand rose over the troops gathered in the clearing where the camp had been set up. At her signal, banners were also raised, identifying the different battalions. Swords were unsheathed and a cry, in unison, was heard:

"For the Moons! For the Queen! "A trumpet sounded and the troops moved.

Charlie had explained the etiquette of the fighting, which was obviously simulated. He knew what he should do to 'injure' or 'kill' an opponent by eliminating him from the game, how he could protect himself from the blows and beware of using 'magic', since both the Knights of Yesteryear and the Elves used to count on powerful sorcerers among their warriors.

It was a game, but in Dean's chest anxiety grew, as if he were heading for a real battle.

When they spotted the opponents' troops on the other side of a green field, Dean drew his sword, lifting up the rustic shield. Archers stood at the head of the troops, waiting for the signal. On the right side of the soldiers of the Moons, the army of the Elves, in their green outfits, stood ready, the chainmail glinting in the early afternoon sun.

Distracted for a moment, he imagined that Castiel should be there, carrying also a fake sword, dressed in a green leather suit, ears covered with pointed prosthetics. That thought gave him a start, something he preferred to avoid at the present moment.

A trumpet sounded, its tone sharper than that of the trumpets of the Moons. It was the signal to the Elven archers. Then another signal echoed the first and the archers in reddish robes also raised their bows.

A joint sound signal was given when the opposing warriors began to move toward them.

In a short time, Dean found himself embroiled in skirmishes. The evolutions of the Warriors of Yesteryear were preferable to the brute attacks of the Orcs. The sooty-covered faces and gruesome dentures gave them  a grotesque look and Dean found himself dodging them, even if he didn’t avoided them openly. He preferred more civilized combat, that was all.

There had already been a considerable number of opponents slaughtered when he suddenly found himself in the midst of an elven troop, none of the Moons warriors nearby. They were allies, after all, and the advancement of the Orcs, who had proved quite brave in battle, needed to be restrained.

He then witnessed the magical attacks by the elven sorcerers infiltrated in the midst of the soldiers. Two or three of them, in their long brown robes, their hoods covering their faces, inflicted heavy casualties, as they dropped ‘magic bombs’ that dropped silver paper stars over the enemy.

The opposing warriors who were struck by the small pieces of paper should be considered paralyzed, being removed from the battle for a few minutes, enough to be neutralized or imprisoned.

Dean watched as one of them reached into the leather purse he wore around his waist and tossed one of them, reducing a mixed group of Orcs and Warriors from Old to mere 'statues'. He dodged a chubby Orc, giving him a 'fatal' blow, only to turn his eyes to see that the wizard had run out of ammunition as he sought another of the artifacts in his bag. The Orc struck a blow that ‘injured’ him and he fell to the ground, holding one of the arms against the body.

The Orcs, more numerous at the moment, surrounded them from all sides and soon Dean found himself ready to 'die' fighting. He wouldn’t give up without a fight. When he least expected it, however, one of the wizards fighting for the Warriors of the Yersteryear had immobilized him by throwing some magic 'tentacles', which, in fact, were a tangle of long pieces of ribbon thrown in the direction of the rival fighters.

Dean found himself handcuffed, unable to defend himself, and when he was allowed to move again, taken as a prisoner of war to the camp of the Shadow Orcs.

There was a reasonable group of prisoners there. Some, the most impetuous, had been separated and tied to pillory in the center of the camp. The rest were taken to a large tent where wooden cages were painted to emulate the texture of the iron. Placed in one of them in the company of several elven soldiers who had been captured with him, Dean sat in a corner, snorting in frustration. He felt useless.

He looked at the group that occupied the cell with him. Five tall men, most of them still flaunting their fake ears, were talking to each other, planning an escape. One of them, however, had stayed apart from the others, the brown mantle still covering his head. Dean assumed it was another ‘outsider’, added to the group of usual participants of the game by their friends' wedding. He got up and walked to the other man, who was holding the bars, looking at the entrance of the tent.

"I see you too are an outsider. Charlie or Gilda's guest? "

The wizard, at last removing the hood, said in a low voice,

"Charlie."

In front of him, his eyes even bluer than Dean remembered, was Castiel, flaunting the pointed ears of the Elves, who seemed to make his serious face even more handsome.


	18. ... And I advertise: a soul for sale or rent

Dean took a few steps back and sat down again where he had been before. Castiel had seen and avoided him, keeping his features hidden by the cloak. That was the result of what had happened months earlier. It seemed Castiel didn’t want to talk to him.

The rejection ached in his chest. He thought of how that feeling had become a permanent feature in his life. But the pain was greater than he expected since it was inflicted by Cas. _Deservedly inflicted_ , he concluded.

He clasped his hands over his knees and rested his forehead on them, suddenly too tired of all that.

He looked up, however, as Castiel sat beside him on the straw that covered the dirt floor.

"Looks like we weren’t meant to be warriors, Dean."

Faced with the impersonal conversation, Dean replied in the same tone:

"Well, I was doing fine, until I was paralyzed by some magical 'tentacles'. What happened to you?"

"I was injured by an Orc when I ran out of ammo. I spent my 'stun bombs' too fast. "

Castiel was the wizard Dean had seen fall. They had been close during the battle. He shook his head in agreement before replying,

"Disgusting creatures these Orcs. They collect the ears of the Elves to make necklaces... Yours are intact, though. "

"They only cut off the ears of those who are 'killed' in battle. They consider it a dishonor to take the ears of a living Elf... That's what some of my comrades told me. "

"They look good on you, you know… the ears" Dean said, before he could stop his lips from moving and giving away the thoughts he didn’t want to express out loud.

Castiel turned his face toward Dean, his eyes unfathomable.

"Maybe I should try cosmetic surgery and make them permanent, then," he said playfully.

Dean smiled.

They ran out of talking material after that, since what had happened between them was land that none of them seemed willing to cross.

Silence stretched for a few minutes, before Dean asked, finally overcome by inappropriate curiosity:

"When you told me you lived in New York, you didn’t tell me... the circumstances."

Castiel sighed, lowering his eyes.

"And why does that matter, Dean? It's part of the past. "

Fighting the conflict within him Dean blurted out nervously:

"It matters if I was the cause, having done what I... You..."

Castiel cut him off sharply:

"Should I have made you feel guilty? It all happened the way it happened and I'm grateful for everything I've experienced, Dean. I consider those experiences as the pains of birth that allowed me to be reborn, free from the heavy fetters imposed on me from the cradle."

The freckled man, surprised by Cas' reaction, returned to his mutism. It hasn’t been his intention to reproach Castiel.

"I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to be so… aggressive. You are not to blame for anything, on the contrary. I should thank you for putting in motion what has finally set me free.”

Dean let out a sad laugh, his eyes not meeting Castiel's.

In the face of his companion's silence, the dark-haired man continued:

"How did you know about this detail of my past?"

"Sam. Gabriel told him."

"Sam? I don’t understand how..."

"They were responsible for our meeting, Cas." For the first time he uttered the nickname in the conversation, the one that denoted the intimacy they had once had. "They've been in touch and Gabriel changed the date of your appointment so we could meet. They had a plan to reunite us. "

Castiel looked away, thinking. He shook his head and smiled at last. Dean didn’t expect that.

"They want what they think is best for us. Too bad it's not... what we want. "

That last sentence fell like a bomb. It explained how much Castiel wanted to stay away from Dean, what happened in Gabriel's apartment being what he had assumed from the beginning: the attempt of getting rid of an insistent fixation.

He should reply that he actually wanted exactly what those idiots wanted. He wanted Castiel in every possible way. How could Dean say now that he wanted to know Castiel again? That he wanted to learn the little things again… to make Cas understand he was completely in love? He longed to have Cas in his arms. He wished it was possible for him to show Cas that he yearned to sleep and wake up wrapped in his warmth every night...

How could he tell Cas that he wanted to get lost in the kindness he saw in those beautiful eyes?

But all that would remain inside him with no possibility of expression. Castiel’s stoic face of told him that it was impossible.

Before the embarrassment became unbearable, battle cries were heard outside. Sounds of combat, closer and closer, made them to stand up and join the others.

The last light of the afternoon came through the tent opening when the Queen of Moons walked towards the cell. Charlie approached, imposing in her shining armor, followed closely by soldiers from the two allied kingdoms. By her orders, the locks were broken and the prisoners released.

When Dean bowed to his friend, she said, jokingly:

"I see that I should have kept my original plan and made you my handmaiden, Sir Dean."

Castiel chuckled softly. And that was too much. It was the last straw. With a bow, Dean apologized and left, joining the troops outside.

The victory of the allied kingdoms was followed by the wedding ceremony.

Gathered on their own fields, everyone got ready for the celebration that would take place in a clearing between the camps of the Followers of the Moons and that of the Elves.

When the Queen of Moons emerged from her tent, dressed in a splendid red dress covered in golden embroidered moons and stars and bearing the golden crown of her people, all bowed in respect. Charlie was beautiful, Dean thought, and she showed her happiness in every gesture.

Dismissing the gold palanquin waiting for her, Charlie made her way to the clearing on foot, followed by her subjects. Among them was Dean, who had the prestigious title of Best Man.

As they got to the place they were received with reverence by the King of the Elves. There were hundreds of tiny lights around the tree trunks and flowers in profusion. Gilda was next to the King in a flowing white dress adorned with green ribbons. Over her light brown hair, cascading down her bare shoulders, she wore a wreath of wildflowers. On her chest sparkled a crystal pendant.

In a patent breach of the rules of the game  - perfectly comprehensible in the face of circumstances - members of the opposing teams had divested themselves of their armor and were there to witness not the alliance of the two fictitious kingdoms but the wedding of their friends.

The so-called 'Lord' Garth, Dean discovered, was a co-worker of Gilda's who had been ordained online to perform the ceremony. With a smile he motioned for the brides to approach.

To the delicate sound of a small orchestra of medieval instruments, the young women walked to meet each other. Charlie took Gilda's hand and kissed it gently.

The ceremony itself was brief and touching. The two brides made their feelings clear to all those present. There were a lot of tears as they both uttered their vows.

After the kiss that sealed the union, the trumpets played again, this time in a more cheerful tone, wishing the newlyweds an auspicious future.

The King of the Elves proposed a toast. Champagne was served to the guests and Dean was called to make his speech.

As he stood up, adjusting the chain mail around his neck nervously, he thought of the words he had memorized. He had gone through the text before the ceremony one last time just to make sure he wouldn't forget anything.

It was a funny speech with lots of geek references that would make everyone laugh, he was sure. He would leave the emotional stuff for the end.

Taking a last sip from his goblet, he placed it on the rustic wooden table. He cleared his throat and began to speak, his voice less stable than he wished:

"First of all, I would like to thank Charlie for this honor, and I must say that I have never, in my entire life, seen two more beautiful brides. For those of you who don’t know me, I'm Dean, one of Charlie's closest friends. We’ve known each other for a long time. I’ve been her friend and partner in crime through the years and today I have the honor of being her Best Man."

Dean took a deep breath, relieved that the initial presentation had passed and with it most of his nervousness. Now would come the easy part - the jokes.

"Well, when I was writing this speech I set about reminding myself of all the embarrassing facts about Charlie, but unfortunately the three boxes that contained the printed pages were intercepted on the way to this ceremony by Orcs and burned so I find myself in the uncomfortable condition of having to speak from memory. "

Laughter spread through the clearing. The Orcs in the back waved their arms in a victorious gesture.

Congratulating himself internally for having managed to utter the second part of the speech perfectly, Dean inhaled, ready to continue with the memorized text. However, as his eyes slid down the smiling faces in the audience and met Castiel's face, his mind felt empty.

His deep feelings for Castiel and the rejection he had known before the ceremony clouded his thoughts, flooding his mind with an immense sadness, even in the face of the of the two brides’ happiness.

The carefully prepared and thoroughly studied speech vanished from his mind, leaving Dean at the mercy of his disordered reflections and unrequited feelings.

Castiel kept looking at him. Before the ceremony, he had stripped himself of the dark cloak and ears, presenting himself in the green outfit of the elven warriors. His face, instead of serious as most of the time showed an enigmatic expression.

The seconds stretched, and the present seemed to begin to realize that something was wrong. Dean resumed speaking before the stares turned into whispers:

"Leaving aside the jokes, which I know would bring a lot of laughter to this celebration, I'd rather speak about the life Gilda and Charlie share. Their commitment is not new. The touching ceremony that we witnessed was only the moment their strong bond became official. I had the opportunity to see by myself that their relationship  is the most complete expression of the love that two human beings can share. The companionship, the joys of their daily life, the gentleness in the smallest gestures, the purest exteriorization of feelings is what I have been able to witness. And as they are human beings I have also witnessed small disagreements that I have seen solved in the light of their love and respect for each other. "

Gilda squeezed Charlie's hand to her chest, smiling at her bride.

Dean felt his throat tighten, but he forced himself to continue:

"I conclude here, conveying my deepest wishes that the life that is ahead can strengthen the bonds and reaffirm the happiness that you have just begun to know.” Dean took a deep breath and continued: “How many of us here today can say that they live such a perfect union? How many of us are still looking for the ideal partner, the one able to lift us to the fulfillment of our most cherished dreams?"

Dean looked at Cas again and unconsciously communicated that way what he could never express face to face.

He raised his glass again and ended by saying,

"Charlie and Gilda are fortunate to have met and fallen in love. We are also fortunate to be here to witness this joyous occasion. To you, my dear friends, I wish all the happiness you surely deserve."

Charlie got up and, as applause erupted among those present and hugged Dean. When she whispered in his ear the well-known declaration of love, she got back an emotional _"I love you too"._

The brides would spend their wedding night in a cozy hotel nearby. It would be up to Dean to take Charlie’s car to New York and return to pick them up in two days' time.

A carriage, provided by Garth, was ready to take them to their destination. While Charlie waited for Gilda aboard the rustic vehicle, she watched as Dean was approached by Castiel. He touched Dean’s arm softly.

She watched as Dean's face lit up as something she couldn’t hear was said to him.

Castiel smiled as well, and they sat down at one of the tables, amidst the people who danced happily.

Charlie thought that, of all possible plans drawn up by their brothers or by herself - by having them captured together by the Orcs - there was no better way of connecting than to open one’s heart and let the other look at what was hidden inside it.

When Gilda finally sat down next to her, she was greeted with a deep kiss and a radiant smile.

That was the best wedding present her two oldest friends could give them.


	19. Save Me

Castiel touched Dean's arm lightly. When Dean turned, he met the old friend with an open expression, staring at him with sparkling eyes:

"Your speech was beautiful, Dean. I like when the best man talks about what’s really important" he said, a new warmth revealing itself in his deep voice.

Dean shook his head, realizing that Cas’ hand hadn’t left the place where it had touched. The heat emanating from it seemed to spread all over his body, radiating in waves.

"It made me think..." He continued, not blinking. "Could we ... start again?" Cas’ gaze dropped to the lips he had kissed only a few times, but which were unforgettable. “My name is Castiel Novak... would you like to dance?"

Dean couldn’t hide a smile, which was accompanied by a slight acceleration in his heartbeat. Castiel was approaching of his own volition and he couldn’t miss that opportunity. He accepted the fantasy:

"Well, Mr. Castiel Novak, the thing is... I don’t know how to dance… not this kind of music, at least. Could we... maybe... talk and get to know each other a little better? " The faint hoarseness in his tone expressed more than words could do.

"And maybe have a slice of cake, some champagne?" Castiel suggested, knowing that small but crucial detail about the man standing in front of him.

"Cake is a good start ... It would seem you already know me..."

"Maybe... in another life."

The hand left Dean’s arm, only to gently touch his back, leading the other man to one of the benches under the trees.

They decided to ‘start’ better this time by talking. The words left their lips naturally, and for the first time in many years there was frankness and sensitivity in what they said, the two gradually stripping themselves of the conventions and fears in which they had become entangled so many times.

Seated at a wooden table under the lush, lighted tree, they talked for a long time, until the dancers left and the orchestra put the instruments away. The last guests left the party and they suddenly realized that it was almost the next day.

"How will you get back to the city?" Dean asked.

"Gilda got me a place in Garth's car, but I don’t see him ..." he said, looking around.

"I'm going back in that tiny thing Charlie calls a car... Do you want a ride back?"

"Yes, I would like that ... If it weren’t for your generous offer, I would probably have to sleep right here on this bench."

"This bench is too hard... I believe there is a softer bed in Gabriel's apartment."

Cas' eyes met Dean's, but there was nothing more than warmth and sweetness there.

"Thank you, Dean," he said, following the man who had stood up and stretched. They walked together to the car, the first hint of morning light appearing on the horizon.

They made the most of the way back in silence, the weariness of the long day and the sleepless night making itself known.

When Dean stopped on the Fifth Avenue, Cas had dozed off. The freckled man smiled and poked him lightly, awakening him.

"We're here, Cas."

"You... would you... want to come in?" Castiel asked, still half asleep.

"Oh... thank you, but I must feed the cat... Charlie will kill me if I forget!"

"Cat? Do they have a cat? "

"Yes, it was a wedding present from Gilda. His name is Bilbo. "

Castiel laughed at the perfect name. Charlie was the biggest Hobbit fan on Earth. He opened the door and left the car.

"Dean, I..."

Before Cas could complete the sentence, Dean cut him off:

"Can I come and pick you up later?  Maybe have something to eat?"

Castiel's face lit up:

"Of course! I know a deli on 59th Street that I’m sure you'll love. "

Dean shook his head, smiling.

As the car pulled away, the blue-eyed man watched him go, thinking they finally seemed to be on the right track.

It was almost lunchtime when Dean woke up. He rolled over in bed, remembering the night shared with Castiel under the trees. The conversation had been long and revealing, and though there had been no more explicit mention than the interest in resuming their friendship, he could suppose there was a chance for more.

He took a quick shower and got dressed. He stroked the little gray animal that still seemed lost in his new home, sneezed (he was allergic to cats) and left, his fast stride denouncing the joy of being able to meet Castiel again.

When he arrived at the building, the doorman motioned for him to park the car in one of the private spaces of the residents. Dean laughed as he saw her friend's modest vehicle among the imposing cars of the others.

He walked out of the elevator to the apartment door whistling an AC/DC tune which he found exhilarating.

The door was opened by a casually dressed Castiel, a warm smile on his face. He let Dean in, and as they sat on the couch in the living room they suddenly found themselves a little embarrassed.

Dean quickly got up and went to look out the window, the view of Central Park unfolding in front of them. It was a magnificent view of the city and he was lost in contemplation for a few moments.

Castiel joined him and showed him some of the points of interest that could be seen from there. Dean followed the long finger that pointed to the different directions, admiring the beauty of the hand to which it belonged. Cas’ skin, lightly tanned, made Dean think of the Los Angeles sun.

He thought that within a few days they would be back home and that they could finally get closer. Dean thought of inviting him to his apartment, imagining where Cas lived. Everything was new and exciting. They were really starting again.

Castiel suggested they leave, so they could still have some of the dishes served at lunchtime. The deli wasn't far from there so they could walk by the park.

Dean's heart was warmed by all those little things they could share again, transformed little by little by gestures of affection that hadn’t been there before. Not so openly, at least.

The urge to take Cas’ hand as they walked along the sidewalk was immense, but Dean held back, fearing to anticipate something that hadn’t yet been mentioned. His anxious eyes missed that Castiel's hand was nervously lodged in his pocket when his fingers, willingly, seemed to stretch toward Dean's.

Dean approved Cas' choice of restaurant when he chose a sandwich and a cheesecake slice, both famous local dishes. As his appetite was much greater than that, he asked the waiter for some slices of different pies and sweets for later consumption. Castiel joked, saying he needed to know what Dean's secret was to keep in shape by eating that unrestrained way.

They returned to the apartment walking through the park, the brown paper bag containing the delicious sweets in one of Dean's hands. Realizing how romantic all that was, he finally allowed the fingers of his free hand to brush against Cas'. A slightly surprised look, a small smile… And they walked the rest of the way holding hands.

As they entered the large atrium of the building, the doorman, usually too serious, smiled at them. For Castiel, that didn’t go unnoticed but he thought it was just caused by the fact they were still walking hand in hand.

But after they had put the sweets on the kitchen counter and entered the spacious living room they saw a sign on the couch:

 

**"NOT ON THE COUCH, BOYS!"**

 

Castiel felt embarrassed. Gabriel knew they were there, probably through the doorman, and he pulled a prank on them.

Dean, however, laughed enthusiastically. Seeing that Cas laughed too.

"Oh, Cas... I think we were not very discreet that night..." he said, wiping away the tears from his eyes.

"Gabriel always knows how to be the most inconvenient possible!" Castiel mumbled, for his part, not knowing what to say. "I beg you to forgive him."

Sitting up and picking up the sign to look more closely, Dean finally found the courage to say,

"That night, Cas, I... wanted so bad to stay but..."

"You should have stayed," Castiel said, his face suddenly serious.

"I thought... it was just a way for you to get that out of your system. I didn’t want to assume... "

"That I could still be  interested in you so many years later?" Cas asked, bluntly.

Dean couldn’t find the right words, so he remained silent, his eyes on the carpet.

"That I could... have loved you, Dean, for so long?" He finished, finally stating what Dean hadn't been able to say and never thought possible.

Dean’s eyes turned to the face that showed a loving expression mixed with a touch of sadness. When he realized what was happening, he forced himself to reply, his throat tight.

"Please, Cas… don’t say things like that..."

Castiel rising from where he was, sat down next to Dean, taking his hand gently:

"I would never lie about that, Dean."

Dean closed his eyes as Castiel pulled him into a kiss - the kiss he’d craved since he'd seen Cas in that cell in the Orcs' camp.


	20. Don't let me face my life alone

After a few moments, Dean found himself pressed to the couch, Cas' weight on him in a heated kiss.

When Castiel moved back to ask for his agreement, Dean lifted the piece of paper he still had in one hand, showing him the message on it.

Castiel couldn’t keep serious, leaning his forehead against his partner's chest to laugh along with him. That lightness was a relief after so many years of recriminations and guilt. Standing up, he held out his hand to Dean, who took it immediately, passionately returning the kiss.

A smiling Cas led him into the suite he was occupying. When they got there, the anxiety was gone, as well as the rush. They stripped each other slowly and tenderly before they lay together on the large bed.

They were ready to devote themselves to that sweet activity but Cast wouldn't refrain from saying the words that mattered, moving away from Dean just enough to murmur:

"I've always wanted you, Dean. Even when I considered all this a mortal sin, I wanted you... I loved you... when it was forbidden. I loved you from the moment you smiled at me for the first time. "

Dean swallowed hard with the confession. He needed to say what had anguished him for so long:

"I realized that I loved you when I knew I could lose you… When you got sick, remember?"

Castiel smiled at him, his eyes bright, saturated with happy tears. He shook his head, closing his eyelids and wetting Dean's chest with the expression of his feeling.

Their arousal, which had subsided in the face of the emotional moment, resumed its course as Dean rolled them onto the bed, leaning over Castiel, gazing intently at him, his body moving with purpose.

Dedicating himself to showing in every little gesture how much he loved Castiel, Dean took his time, savoring every second passed with him, the first man who had attracted him. The only person he had ever loved.

When city had already lit up outside, exhausted and sated, the two of them fell asleep in each other's arms. Shortly before, however, as Dean heard Cas' heartbeat, he allowed himself to be completely enveloped in that deep feeling. Kissing his neck, Dean slid his mouth up and whispered on Cas’ ear, the greatest truth he had ever known:

"I love you, Cas. I can’t live apart from you anymore."

As Dean had imagined, waking up with Cas around him was perfect. With his back against his lover's chest, Cas’ strong arms wrapped around his waist, he sighed.

He thought of how it would have been if Cas had followed his family will and had become a minister of that restrictive and prejudiced sect. They would never have known love in all its beauty.

When he moved to leave the bed, Cas’ arms tightened around him and his face snuggled closer against the back of Dean’s neck. Dean felt as Castiel took a deep breath, ready to go back to sleep.

"Cas... let me get up... I have to go feed Bilbo."

"Who?" Grumbled Cas, pulling him even closer.

"OK, I see you love cuddling, but Bilbo is still a baby and..."

"Baby?"

"Yes, Cas, Charlie's cat..."

"Oh, yes ... Wait, I'll go with you," he said, starting to leave a trail of soft kisses on Dean’s neck, descending slowly toward his broad shoulders.

"Cas... the idea was getting up... but not... like that..." He laughed, feeling Cas' erection against the back of his thigh.

"Just let me... Like that..."

Dean had already gotten involved again. Bilbo was going to have to wait a little longer for breakfast.

To Dean's relief, little Bilbo was still sleeping on the couch. He opened his eyes as the two men entered and meowed, as if he was scolding them for having abandoned him for so long.

Castiel, delighted, took him in his hands, caressing his soft fur.

"Dean, we can’t leave him alone! He's only a baby!"

"I told you that" Dean said, laughing.

"I didn’t know Bilbo was so small... and so cute."

"I see. I was abandoned for a kitten... And there goes my happy ending!" Dean said, lowering his eyes in a dramatic way.

Castiel laughed, but his eyes conveyed something much deeper. He walked over, still holding the little animal in his arms to kiss Dean.

"Never. Nothing will ever get between us" he whispered.

Dean smiled and hugged Cas tightly, trying not to sneeze.

As Castiel refused to leave the cat alone, they spent Sunday in the girls' apartment. Luckily, cats sleep at least eighteen hours a day. So there was enough time for Castiel to devote himself to Dean.

On Monday morning the economy car pulled up in front of the hotel,  an old house converted into an inn. Instead of just one person inside it, as expected, a couple kissed passionately as the red-haired woman opened the driver's door:

"Good morning, bitches!" This was Charlie's usual greeting to his friends since college.

Without letting himself be shaken and without stopping kissing, Dean released one of the arms around Castiel and pulled the door closed again.

Charlie laughed, delighted.

A few moments later Dean opened the window and said,

"If the car is rocking, don't come knocking. Even if it's your own car. "

“Noted... From what I see, you two had a very nice weekend."

Castiel had already gotten out of the car and hugged his friend:

"Thank you, Charlie. We had the best weekend we could wish for. "

Gilda was coming down the steps, a suitcase in her hand. Dean hastened to go and help her, kissing her in the cheek.

"I will assume that your weekend was great too..." he said, smiling.

"It was perfect!" Gilda replied, her face radiant. Charlie’s arm encircled her waist and brought her close.

They returned to the city, the four of them crammed into the tiny vehicle. But who cared for a little detail like that when they felt happier than ever?

Castiel, of course, had a hard time saying goodbye to Bilbo. Gilda, in order to console him, said that he was officially the cat's godfather and that he should come and see him again as soon as possible.

Charlie hugged Dean tightly when she dropped them off at the airport. She looked him in the eye, sure that his friend had never looked so peaceful.

"I'm happy for you, Dean. Take good care of Cas. "

"That's all I want. Thank you for helping us when we didn’t want to be helped. "

Castiel hugged her, too. But he, ever so eloquent, seemed lost for words.

"He's yours, Cas. He has always been yours. "He whispered next to his ear. "Be happy."

"We already are," he replied with an soft smile. "Thank you very much."

The return flight would be on Gabriel's jet, and Dean couldn’t decide whether that would be good or bad. He always said it was incomprehensible that something as big as an airplane could stay in the air, but when he saw the small aircraft, he felt even more insecure.

Castiel squeezed his hand and pulled him inside.

A steward offered them a drink while Dean looked around. The space was light and comfortable, with seating for half a dozen passengers in ample seats.

Castiel, sitting next to him, looked amused at Dean. He wasn’t aware of this facet. He decided that he would do what was in his power to make the flight as relaxing and enjoyable as possible for his companion.

As soon as they had taken off and the plane stabilized, Castiel tried to retrieve his own hand that was tight between Dean's fingers. He realized that he was still breathing hard and his eyes were slightly alarmed.

He released the buckle from his seat belt.

"What... what are you doing?" Dean asked when he saw that he was about to stand and offered a hand for him to accompany him.

"I thought you might want to see the view from the cockpit."

Dean closed his eyes, terrified at the possibility. He had better keep the illusion that planes flew by unknown means.

"No? I see... I'll have to think of something else... " He said as he pressed the button to recline Dean's chair.

Lifting the armrest between them, he bent over the freckled man, capturing his lips in a kiss. After a few minutes he said in a hoarse voice:

"Dean, I must announce that in just a few minutes you will become part of an extremely restricted club..."

Dean smiled at that. That was a reference he understood.

"You mean... I'm going to be a Mile High Club member?"

The answer was a deeper kiss. Suddenly that flight had become an experience that Dean could appreciate.

Later, closer to home, Dean began to laugh.

Castiel, who was dozing, leaning against Dean's chest, awoke and mumbled:

"What is so funny?"

"I wonder... if we ever fly on this plane again, we'll surely find a _NOT IN THE PLANE, BOYS!_ sign."

Castiel smiled, imagining his brother's face as he discovered what they had done. No doubt he would know. Gabriel had a sixth sense for those things.

"Remind me to thank him, Dean. And Sam. They were right. "

"Yes, as much as it pains me to admit that the Moose was right, I'm glad they insisted."

They kissed again. If that would be life from then on, Dean couldn't wait for it.


	21. I'll love you 'til I die

When the small aircraft landed, Castiel held Dean's hand firmly. The gesture itself was comforting, but Dean knew that having his old friend next to him the way he'd always wanted it was the reason he felt calmer.

They took their suitcases and left the plane, the stewardess saying goodbye to them with a broad smile. Dean was sure she knew what they had done, even if she hadn’t interrupted or come to them without request. But he couldn’t feel embarrassed when he had a sexy, generous man like Castiel as his lover.

They walked down the tarmac toward the car waiting for them hand in hand.

Gabriel himself had come for them, and he opened a huge smile when he saw them.

Dean, who was waiting for a driver, showed his surprise.

"Cassie! Dean-o! " He hugged them affectionately and it was cause for discomfort for Dean. "I bet you took advantage of the long trip... "He said, his eyebrows moving suggestively. When he saw their flushed faces, Gabe struck his own forehead:

"And I was just joking... I have to warn the cleaning staff to be extra careful! Do I need to hire a specialized company again? " He asked Cas, his face suddenly serious.

"No, Gabe, it was just oral sex and we both swal-" Cas replied, at point-blank range, to Dean's astonishment.

 _"Lalalalalala..."_ The shortest man promptly interrupted Castiel's speech, humming loudly and covering his ears with both hands. He liked to tease his younger brother, but he didn’t need to know the sordid details.

Dean smiled at Castiel and pulled him into a kiss. Cas was resolute and fearless and these were qualities he appreciated. Dean had never been a supporter of public displays of affection, but the man at his side was capable of making him change his mind. Especially when Gabriel looked so embarrassed by it.

"Oh, no, Cassie, you know where his mouth has been... _Oooooh!_ " Gabriel groaned, turning his back on the two of them to get into the car.

Cas knew Dean would work the next day, but he wasn’t ready to let him go. He invited him to his house, which Dean liked immensely. He wasn’t ready to leave, either, after all that time.

Gabe left them there, not yet totally recovered from the embarrassing situation. He understood now what Sam had said about not needing that ‘mental image’. But he was happy for both of them and because Sam and he had been successful in their endeavor.

Cas led Dean to the old, but well-kept house where he lived. A garden lay in front of it, and Dean smiled when he saw a flowerbed which was full of succulents of the most varied hues.

As the door closed, Castiel brought Dean into a tight hug. He needed to make sure that his most secret dreams had come true and that the man he loved was there.

Dean stroked Cas’ hair, taking a deep breath. He felt at peace. Complete. He closed his eyes and let himself be involved in that circle of love and affection.

Three months was the time it took for Dean to move into Castiel's house. The evenings spent between the comfortable cottage of the 1940s and Dean's modern apartment showed him how sterile his house was. There was nothing there, only the disposable memories of his years of solitude.

When Castiel proposed that they live together, Dean didn’t hesitate. In a few days he had ended the lease contract and moved in, carrying only his personal belongings. His life was beginning now, he thought. Or rather, it started afresh after a hiatus of more than a decade.

Just eleven months after Madison's stay in New York, Sarah was born. The little girl, with light hair like her father, had dark eyes like her mother's. She was sweet and beautiful, as one might expect, when one considered who had begot it.

Dean had tried to control the tears when the little niece had been placed in his arms by Sam for the first time, but to no avail. Castiel smiled, thinking he had never imagined it possible to love Dean more than before. Seeing him with the child made his chest about to explode.

The girl was also the cause of an undeniable revelation for Dean when, a few months later, they were acting as nannies so that the first-time parents could go out alone.

Seeing him cradling the little girl in his arms as he hummed an old TV series theme, Dean could glimpse Castiel as a father. A kind and loving father, who would endeavor to teach children right from wrong, guiding them toward human values, understanding and tolerance.

Dean suddenly realized how much he wanted to marry Castiel. When the time was right, he would propose to the old friend who turned into his life partner. And some day they would have their own family. His eyes filled with tears again.

The little things never failed to surprise Dean.

He smiled as he remembered how easy it was for them to live under the same roof. He remembered the first time he had awakened in Cas' bed, finally a permanent inhabitant of that house, his arms around the waist of the incredible man the tormented boy had become.

He thought of how natural it was to alternate between moments of passion and quiet nights, in which they slept splayed on the large bed, only their feet or hands touching, the nearness a gift to those who had almost become accustomed to being lonely.

The pleasure of being able to wake up early and make Cas' breakfast.

Dean loved getting kisses upon arrival from work, dinner already started in the kitchen, waiting for his help to be finished.

When they showered together, either when the excited bodies wrap around each other sensuously or when only the comforting presence was enough.

Even the disagreements were a source of perplexity for Dean, since they always ended up the same way: with one in the arms of the other, excuses whispered or drawn by tender fingers on the partner's skin.

Dean knew that all this would only be possible in the company of Cas, no other soul capable of making him feel that way.


	22. Epilog

Gabriel was a man who appreciated family, after all. Not the family the blood had given him, except for Castiel. From the first encounter with the Winchesters, he had counted on one, more ample, to which he could adhere by choice.

His fiancée, Kali, an unrequited old love, had finally yielded to Gabe’s charms and had also become a member of that family group. The fact that ‘Cassie and Dean-o’ had been reunited and made their relationship real had been what had made Gabe seek the woman he had known years before and had been in his mind ever since.

It was Saturday and early spring in California. Around the spectacular L-shaped pool, surrounded by a cool garden, lay members of that group, including the master of the house and his partner; Castiel and Dean; Sam, Madison and the little Sarah, who was taking her first steps and required even more attention.

At home, at ease, Gabe had nothing of the hard and determined television executive that the competitors knew. He looked like a big boy (not so ‘big’ when compared to the Winchesters and his own brother) - cheerful, playful, relaxed. He made everyone comfortable with his simple manners, except when he decided to pull a prank on someone.

As Madison and Kali sunbathed on loungers, Sam and Sarah played in the pool. Gabriel, Dean, and Cas sat in the shade of the tropical vegetation, drinking and talking. Dean had set out to take care of lunch, but Gabriel hadn’t wanted to hear any of it. It was a day of relaxation and a moment of enjoying each other's company.

Dean's gaze dropped to the solid figure of his companion, who had unceremoniously put on one of Dean’s old rock band shirts that morning. Castiel knew how much Dean liked to see him wearing his clothes.

To Gabriel, their long, loving stares didn’t go unnoticed, seeing how happy they were since they had finally got together:

"So, Dean, when are you going to make an honest man out of my little brother?" He asked, a wicked smile on his lips.

"Why do _I_ have to make him an honest man? Do not I deserve the same honor? "

"You are a man of the world, Dean... Cassie is like... a delicate flower. He deserves to be treated like that! "

" _A delicate flower_? A delicate flower strong enough to hold me up against a wet tile wall while he-"

"Not again, Winchester!" Gabe said, blushing. Only the two could do that to him and they always used the subterfuge to escape Gabriel’s curiosity.

Castiel smiled at Dean, sharing the pleasure of embarrassing his brother, but also being struck by the memory of what the partner had just told Gabe. He loved making love with Dean everywhere and knew how the handsome man liked to be 'manhandled' from time to time. Perhaps they could repeat that later, in the huge bathroom of the suite they would occupy there, in that house where they were staying for the weekend.

"Why do you always tease Dean about this?" Cas asked, his face serious only for pretense.

"Bro... You know I'm hopelessly romantic. I don’t understand why you haven’t married your one and only love yet. "

"Has it occurred to you that perhaps the idea of 'living in sin', as our mother would very well put it, seems appealing to me?"

Dean looked from one to the other and at the last sentence made him raise his eyebrows. He intended to propose to Cas sometime in the future, but that answer seemed to dismantle his plans.

"Living in sin?" Gabriel said thoughtfully. "Um…  it does have some appeal, I agree..."

"Or maybe it never occurred to you that _I wanted to propose to Dean?_ That I planned to propose to him in a perfect way, at a time when those we love could witness our commitment and rejoice with us? " He said, standing up slowly.

Dean, who had heard it all, had been so annoyed to hear that Cas was not planning to get married now felt his heart racing.

Castiel knelt down in front of Dean, and from the pocket of his loose blue shorts he pulled out a black velvet box. Inside it, two platinum rings with the symbol of eternity etched gleamed in the sun.

"Will marry me, Dean?" He asked simply. Verbal fluency always seemed to elude Cas at the most sentimental moments, but he knew that later, intimately, he would say everything his beloved deserved to hear.

Dean looked astonished for just a second, then knelt down and hugged Castiel, whispering the answer in his ear,

"Yes, Cas, I’ll marry you."

In a few moments, the two of them found themselves engulfed by the love of their family.

The wedding took place in the same garden, six months later.

Friends and family gathered to witness the ceremony who joined the two former roommates who had loved each other for so long in silence and who had been reunited by the affection of their devoted brothers.

Finally united by earthly bonds, when their hearts had bound them forever long before, Dean and Castiel smiled at each other before kissing deeply.

The love they shared had saved them.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story was inspired by the song "Save Me", which verses, in altered order, served as titles for the chapters. As this alters the meaning of the song, here are the lyrics in the correct order:
> 
> "Save Me" (Brian May -Queen)
> 
> It started off so well  
> They said we made a perfect pair  
> I clothed myself in your glory and your love  
> How I loved you,  
> How I cried
> 
> The years of care and loyalty  
> Were nothing but a sham it seems  
> The years belie we lived a lie  
> I'll love you 'til I die
> 
> Save me, save me, save me  
> I can't face this life alone  
> Save me, save me, save me  
> I'm naked and I'm far from home
> 
> The slate will soon be clean  
> I'll erase the memories,  
> To start again with somebody new  
> Was it all wasted?  
> All that love?
> 
> I hang my head and I advertise  
> A soul for sale or rent  
> I have no heart, I'm cold inside  
> I have no real intent
> 
> Save me, save me, save me  
> I can't face this life alone  
> Save me, save me, oh  
> I'm naked and I'm far from home
> 
> Each night I cry, I still believe the lie  
> I'll love you 'til I die
> 
> Save, save, save me  
> Save, save, save me  
> Don't let me face my life alone  
> Save, save, save me  
> I'm naked and I'm far from home


End file.
